


Be My Escape

by DizzyRedhead



Series: Love Me Like You Do [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Eventual Steve Rogers/Darcy Lewis/Bucky Barnes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harassment (not main characters), Implied Natasha Romanov/Bruce Banner - Freeform, Insecure Darcy Lewis, Insecure Steve Rogers, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Minor PTSD references, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Phone Sex, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <img/><br/></p>
</div>Darcy wasn't planning on hooking up, but when sparks fly with a blond hottie, who is she to say no? But she definitely wasn't planning on getting attached to her one-night stand, especially since her life at Avenger's Tower isn't something she can share with a random stranger.<p>Steve never expected Darcy to want more than a weekend; God knows he still can't talk to women. Now he's getting addicted to having someone in his life who cares about him, not Captain America--but she doesn't know that he's Captain America. </p><p>When life keeps bringing them together, will they be able to make things work? Or will their pasts be too much to overcome?</p><p>Warning: If you don't care for imlplications of future Steve/Darcy/Bucky, skip the Epilogue. Chapters 1-18 stand on their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keep Your Hands To Yourself

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Banner/Wallpapers/Icons] Be My Escape](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034232) by [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/pseuds/Knowmefirst). 



> Big, huge, enormous thanks to [Lady Rougarou](http://lady-rougarou.tumblr.com/), my incredible beta, for pushing me to make this story the best it could be (and to add a full three chapters that I'd conveniently glossed over). I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! 
> 
> Go check out the [incredible artwork for this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5034232) by [Knowmefirst](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/pseuds/Knowmefirst). She did a fantastic job and I am so, so thrilled with it.
> 
> If you'd like to see lots of pictures of Chris Evans with a smattering of other stuff, check out [my Tumblr](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com/>my%20Tumblr</a>)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy doesn't need a knight in shining armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Keep Your Hands To Yourself by the Georgia Satellites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdpAop7gp0w)

Steve maneuvered through the crowd using the aisle between booths to work his way to the right and get a better look at the drawing that had caught his eye. He wasn’t trying to use his height and strength to move people out of the way, but the crowd parted pretty easily for him all the same.

The short, blue-haired woman behind the table gave him a friendly smile and he grinned back before looking up at the prints she had clipped to a frame behind her. [On the top right was what were clearly the Avengers in cartoon form](https://www.etsy.com/listing/198923974/avengers-art-print?ref=shop_home_active_4&ga_search_query=avengers), Thor, Steve, Natasha, Clint and Tony all in a row with Hulk behind them. One of Hulk’s hands rested lightly on Thor’s head, the other on Tony’s, and the rest of them were linked together, too, hands on each other’s shoulders. It was nice. Like they were a team. Like they were family.

“See anything you like?” the lady asked.

“Did you draw these?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” the lady replied with a smile, “I can answer any questions you have about them.”

“They’re amazing,” Steve said honestly. “I love how you can tell exactly who they are, but they’re still your own style. I’ve always had a hard time sticking to one style."

"Thanks," she said, her eyes lighting up. "It can definitely be tricky. You're an artist?"

He shrugged. "I like to draw when I get the chance. Don't know that I'd call myself an artist."

"Hey, if you make art, you're an artist," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Beck."

"Steve," he answered, taking the offered hand. "So do you do these on paper or a computer?"

They fell into a pleasant discussion of digital art methods and their pros and cons versus more traditional methods while occasionally being interrupted by other customers or raising their voices to be heard above the buzz of the room. At one point Beck mentioned that she sometimes accepted commissions and Steve, with a sudden vision of completing all of his Christmas shopping at once, asked for portraits of each of the other Avengers.

Once they had the details settled, Beck started tapping away at her laptop. "I'll have an invoice ready for you in a few minutes," she said absently.

"No rush," he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the side of her table, trying to position himself so he wasn't blocking it from people who might want to browse.

He scanned the crowd, searching for threats.  He didn’t consciously realize he was doing it until his eyes snagged on a cosplayer with a sword taller than he was. Upon closer inspection, it  was obvious the sword was only made of foam and rubber.

_You’re not working, stupid. No one is going to come after you at a convention in Boston. Get a grip_ . Shaking his head, he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. The short, almost plush texture of his buzz-cut hair still felt unfamiliar under his fingers. _Still better than spending God knows how many hours washing that gunk out,_ he told himself firmly. _Hair grows back. And hell, now I don’t have to comb it. Plus, nobody expects Captain America to be running around with a buzz cut._

He forced himself to stop assessing the threat level of the crowd and see them as people, the way he used to when he'd take a sketchbook out on the stoop or to the park on a nice day and just watch them go by, trying to imagine what their stories were, where they were going, who they had waiting at home.

A girl ( _woman_ , he corrected himself absently, _definitely a woman_ ) browsing the booth next to him looked up and met his eyes. She gave him a quick, comprehensive assessment that had his cheeks heating, her lips curving into a slow smile before she turned back to the table and the jewelry she'd been looking at. He dropped his eyes to the floor, not wanting to be rude and stare, but he couldn't help sneaking little peeks, tiny flashes of her. Dark hair curled around her shoulders and her blue eyes lit up when she saw something she especially liked. Full, red lips moved as she spoke to the woman running the booth and he told himself it wasn't polite to eavesdrop.

He tried to keep his attention on her face, and it was a hell of a face. She was clearly one of those people who communicated not just with her face and voice, but with body language as well. Slim hands never stopped moving as she talked, cutting curves and angles through the air. When the jeweler smiled and pulled something out from under the table, she bounced up and down in a way that made it abundantly clear that she was very definitely not a girl. He looked away quickly, but not before he felt the flush on his cheeks take over his entire face, heat boiling up from his belly and expanding outward to fill his skin.

_Shit, Rogers, just go over there and say hi_ , he told himself. _If she shoots you down, you’re not any worse off than you were before._

 

Just as he was about to push himself off the table and actually do it (<i>What the fuck am I doing?</i>), a guy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Steve sagged back against the table, disappointment mingling with relief.

“Hey, babe,” the guy was saying, in what he probably thought was a quiet voice, still clearly audible to Steve’s enhanced hearing. “So I was thinking drinks tonight? I know a place.”

She pried his hands loose and slipped out of his grasp, moving along the table in Steve’s direction. “Dude, I’ve already told you like five times. I’m not going out with you. No means no. Not interested. And quit touching me.”

“Aww, c’mon, baby,” he wheedled, moving closer and starting to rub her shoulders. “Gimme a chance. I bet you’d like me if you got to know me.”

The woman in the jewelry booth opened her mouth to say something, and Steve felt himself taking an involuntary step forward, but the mystery woman was faster than both of them.

“That. Is. It!” she growled, grabbing his hand off her shoulder and spinning around to twist it up behind his back. “When you ask a girl out and she says no, that doesn't mean she wants you to ask again. When she says ‘quit touching me,’ you <i>quit fucking touching her!</i> Is this starting to seep into your tiny brain yet, or do I need to use smaller words?"

"Ow!" he complained, trying to pull out of her grasp and failing. "You crazy bitch. You fucking attacked me! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Her mouth twisted into a humorless smile and she rolled her eyes. "You've been stalking me all day, won't leave me alone, touch me when I tell you not to. What's wrong with me? Obviously you're a catch. You're lucky I couldn't bring my taser in here, you entitled little shit." She looked up and met Steve's eyes, the smile shifting to something that actually reached her eyes. "Hey, you, can you give me a hand here?"

"Sure," Steve managed, shoving off the table. "You want me to..." he trailed off, making vague gestures to indicate taking over for her.

"Nah, I've got this," she said, easily evading the guy's second attempt to get free with one hand and tugging a phone out of her jeans pocket with the other. "Do me a favor and get a picture of this douchebag's badge before I let him go? That way I have a name to give when I report him to con security for harassment."

"Got it," Steve said, fumbling with the phone a bit  before managing to open the camera. He took a close-up picture of the guy's badge (Brody something) and a zoomed-out one with his face, just for good measure, before handing the phone back to her.

“Thanks,” she said, flicking through the pictures one-handed before releasing the guy and stepping back. He immediately turned to confront her, but Steve noticed that he kept a good foot of space between them.

“I’ll report you for this,” he threatened, the effect somewhat ruined by the way he was rubbing his arm. “You can’t just manhandle people! That’s assault!”

“Yes, it is,” she answered sweetly. “Which is what I’ll be reporting you for.”

He sputtered wordlessly before turning on his heel and stalking off. She watched him go before turning back to Steve and offering him a brittle smile. “Well, that was exciting.”

“I guess so,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” she said brightly, offering her hand. “I’m Darcy, by the way. Thanks for the assist.”

Her hand was shaking when he clasped it, fine, almost undetectable tremors. “Nice to meet you, Darcy. I’m Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” she said, her smile now actually reaching her eyes. “Wish I’d met you under slightly less annoying circumstances. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find security and try to report that little shit before he tries to get me thrown out of here.”

“Not likely,” the woman from the jewelry booth put in. “This is a pretty good con; they take harassment seriously.” She held out a business card to Darcy. “I can’t leave right now. My booth helper’s at lunch or I’d go with you, but you can give security my card and tell them I saw the whole thing.”

“Me, too,” Beck said, coming over with a card of her own. “You were awesome. I’m glad you’re gonna report him. I’d hate to think of him running around pulling that shit on other people.”

“I’ll go with you if you want,” Steve offered. “Seems like the kind of thing you shouldn’t have to do alone.”

Darcy bit her lip. “You’ve probably got stuff to do--”

“Not a thing,” he assured her. “My only plan for today was to walk around and see what people had for sale. Already got my Christmas shopping pretty well wrapped up. If you’d rather go alone, that’s cool, but I’m happy to go too.”

“Thanks,” she said, with another smile.

He extended his arm to her like his ma had taught him, figuring it might amuse her. “Shall we?”

She tucked her hand through his elbow, a smile blooming over her face. “Let’s shall.”

* * *

“Thank you for your report, Ms. Lewis,” the security staffer said, closing his notebook and looking up from where he sat across from her. “I’ll pass this along to the head of security immediately. Are you okay? Is there anything else I can do to make you comfortable here?”

Darcy shook her head, smiling politely and hoping he didn’t notice the way her hand was still shaking slightly where it was clamped vice-tight over Steve’s, the way she couldn't quite relax into the comfortable chair. “No, you’ve been great.”

He stood up. “If you see him again, or if  anyone else makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, please don’t hesitate to find a member of security. We take harassment very seriously here.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He smiled down at her, and she marveled as he walked away at the way it transformed him from a somewhat intimidating bald, tattooed guy to a big, cuddly teddy bear.

She forced herself to let go of Steve’s hand, surprised that he hadn’t been subtly trying to pull it away. “Thanks for coming with me. Sorry about cutting off the circulation to your hand.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Nah, ‘m fine. Glad I could be here. Doesn’t seem like something a person would wanna go through alone.”

She sank down in her chair until her head could rest against the back, closing her eyes. “You’re not wrong. I need a drink. Or four. I’m at least three drinks the wrong side of sober. But I’m going to be a responsible liver owner and go curl up in the fetal position in my room for a few hours instead. Pretend other people don’t exist for a little while.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said. “If, y’know, you want anybody to talk to, I’m in room, uh, 1776. If you want to call.”

She snorted, rolling her head to the side to look at him. “You mean on those phones in the rooms? What are you, ninety? Don’t you have a cell?”

He flushed a little. “Yeah, o’course.”

“Well, gimme,” she said, making grabby hands in his direction. He looked confused but fished it out of his pocket obligingly.

“Oooh, nice,” she said, running her fingers over it covetously. “It’s a StarkPhone, right? Is this the 7? I didn’t think they were on sale yet.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I guess they’re not. I have a...a friend who works there, so he gave me this one to try out. I’m kinda hard on phones, so he wanted me to test it out and see how it holds up.”

“Lucky,” she said lightly, entering herself into his contacts and shooting herself a text. And maybe taking a selfie to add to her contact profile, possibly even  angling it for the best view of her cleavage. (Not that there was much to see in the Thor t-shirt she was wearing, but hey, work with what you got.) Anyway, he could delete it if he didn’t like it.

“There,” she said, handing him the phone back. “Now I’ve got your number and you’ve got mine. I’ll text you if I start missing the warmth of human companionship.”

“Deal,” he said, rising to his feet as she stood. “Do you want me to walk you to your room?”

“That’s sweet,” she said, carefully controlling her breathing. “I hope you understand I don’t mean any offense when I say that you’ve been great, but I just met you today and I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you knowing where my room is. Given what’s already happened.”

He flinched a little, but kept the smile on his face, although it didn’t reach his eyes anymore. Darcy felt a little like she’d kicked a puppy.

“Sure,” he said. “I hate that you--that anybody has to think that way, but it makes sense. Walk you to the elevator?”

“Deal,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artist referenced here (by permisison) is the fabulous [Beck Seashols](http://www.beckadoodles.com/). If you're in the market for adorable nerdy stuff, go check it out!!!


	2. Talk Nerdy To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Steve get to know one another. Lots of flirting ensues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ["Talk Nerdy To Me" by K-Face Rules](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JO6eydRPpyU)

After her third straight flip-through of the available hotel channels ( _why can’t they let me use my Netflix account? There’s never anything on that I wanna watch!_ ) Darcy admitted defeat, flopping back across the bed. Before she could talk herself out of it, she unlocked her phone, found “Hottie Steve” in the contacts ( _what? totally true!_ ) and typed a message.

** Darcy: Ok, I wallowed. Bored now. Entertain me **

The reply was gratifyingly speedy

**Steve: How do you feel about knock-knock jokes?**

** Darcy: Fuck no!   
Darcy: Tell me about Steve**

** Steve: Not much to tell. Born and raised in Brooklyn. Spent some time in the Army **

** Darcy: Soldier, huh? Ever deployed? **

There was a longer delay, long enough that she was starting to think she’d tripped over something she shouldn’t have mentioned (<i>always happens when you open your big mouth</i>).

** Steve: Once. Wasn’t much fun **

** Darcy: Fair enough. So what do you do now? **

** Steve: Contract work. It’s kinda on and off. They call my team in for the weird stuff **

** Darcy: Define weird. **

** Steve: Sorry, can’t. Had to sign some pretty harsh nondisclosure agreements to get this job **

** Darcy: :( **

** Steve: What about you? Tell me about Darcy **

“Well, I once tased the god of thunder after my best friend ran him over with a car. Said best friend/boss is an astrophysicist who’s currently shacking up with said god of thunder after having been possessed by evil space goo. You know, when she’s not trying to punch holes between dimensions,” Darcy muttered under her breath, glad they were having this conversation via text so she could snark without having to watch her mouth.

_ Darcy: Scientist wrangler extraordinaire by day...and night, too, come to think of it. SCIENCE! has no respect for my sleep schedule. this is my first weekend off in two years _

_ Steve: I know someone like that. So what, you get him to sleep and eat on a sort of regular basis? _

**Darcy: Her, but yeah. Any day she gets more than 4 hours of sleep and eats something besides poptarts is a good day**   
**Darcy: Her boyfriend’s finally back, which helps with the sleep thing at least**

**Steve: Long distance relationship?**

** Darcy: You have noooo idea **

** Steve: So you got your first weekend off in two years and you came to a convention? **

** Darcy: Hey, these are my people!   
Darcy: And you're here, too, aren't you? Not a lot of room to talk, Steve-O**

** Steve: Fair enough. I’m sorry that asshole ruined your time off **

** Darcy: I refuse to let him ruin it. That would mean he wins. He doesn’t get to win. I'm getting up in the morning and going to panels and having a great time, dammit! **

** Steve: What panels are you going to? **

Darcy rolled to the side and stretched out an arm to snag the bag with the panel schedule in it.

**Darcy: Well, first I'm going to the World War II Alternate History panel because I'm a history nerd**

** Steve: Me too **

** Darcy: I dunno, Steve, you don't look like any other nerd I've ever met **

** Steve: Judging me by appearances, huh? And I meant I was going to the panel too **

** Darcy: Cool. Save me a seat? **

** Steve: Sure thing **

* * *

 

 

Darcy dropped into the seat next to Steve. “Ooof.”

“Good morning!” he said brightly.

She shook her head and did her best to crawl inside her coffee cup.

“Not a morning person, huh?” he asked, looking  _almost_  adorable enough to make up for the fact that he was  _still talking_ . She grunted and gestured to the cup, trying to indicate without words that he should shut up and let the coffee work its magic.

She decided to let him live when he settled back into his chair with a grin, foregoing any further efforts at conversation for the moment. She decided to forgive him when he produced a large pumpkin muffin and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she managed once she’d drained the last possible drop of coffee out of the cup. “Where’d you get the muffin?”

“Oh, I got here early and they had these breakfast buffet things set up in the exhibit hall,” he said. “They went pretty fast, so I thought I’d save you one.”

“Seriously, above and beyond,” she said, biting into the muffin.

He ducked his head and shrugged, somehow managing to exude "aw, shucks, ma'am, it was nothing" without actually saying anything. It would've been nausea-inducing if it wasn't so fucking adorable.

"I like your tattoos," he finally said, reaching out for her arm before pulling his hand back. "Can I?"

"Knock yourself out," she said, swallowing the last of her muffin.

He took her at her word, wrapping one big, warm hand gently around her wrist and extending her arm toward him so he could get a better look at the half-sleeve that had been covered by her t-shirt yesterday. She fought not to react when he started tracing the lines of the tattoo, one blunt fingertip barely skimming the surface, sending shivers across her skin.  _Shit, I've gotta get laid. He's barely touching me and I'm about to lose it._

Fortunately Steve didn't seem to notice her reaction, caught up in following the flowering vines that curled around her arm, turning it this way and that to get a better look or find another of the little goblin faces hiding in the shadows of the leaves. But then his thumb brushed across the inside of her elbow and she couldn't stop the tiny shudder that raced through her body. He looked at her from under those ridiculously long lashes, pupils wide and dark in his blue eyes, and her mouth went dry as she realized that it may not have started out that way, but he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Fortunately the moderator chose that moment to begin the panel discussion, buying her some time to think. Steve released her arm and turned to face the front of the room, expression politely attentive, but he was close enough and his shoulders were wide enough ( _who the hell has shoulders that wide? The man is basically a human Dorito!_ ) that the soft blue fabric of his t-shirt brushed lightly against the bare skin of her arm, making it tricky to focus on what the panelists were saying. When he glanced over at her, one corner of his mouth tipped slightly upwards, any doubt of his intentions evaporated.

_So that's how it's gonna be, huh? Okay, Steve, let's play._

* * *

They didn't really discuss spending the entire day together, but it turned out they were both interested in a lot of the same panels, so after the third one they gave up any pretense that they would separate. By the end of the day, Darcy’s mental scorecard was dead even. Steve had started off resting one hand lightly on the small of her back to keep her close in the crowded hallways, politely ignoring the way she leaned into his touch, but that only lasted until things started getting  _really_  packed. When they’d both accepted that he was better equipped to forge a path through the crush of people, she’d retaliated by sliding her fingers through the belt-loops on his jeans to keep them from getting separated. If her thumb slipped under his shirt and grazed the smooth skin of his back, well, accidents happened. And his full-body shiver was pretty satisfying.

She’d pulled ahead at lunch thanks to his height and the low neckline of her tank top combining to give him a perfect view of her cleavage across the tiny bistro table (she may have helped things along a little, but hey, last she checked, leaning forward to talk to someone wasn’t a crime). He spent the entire meal with a permanent flush across the top of those ridiculous cheekbones, and he didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t looking, but he looked her in the eyes when he was talking to her.

And then he ordered some kind of decadent cheesecake/chocolate/whipped cream concoction for dessert. The noises were bad enough, but he really didn’t have to keep licking his lips and sucking the last taste off the fork before going back for more. It took a supreme effort of will for her to keep from sliding into his lap and finding out exactly how the combination of chocolate and Steve tasted, so that one went to him.

When they made their way back to the convention, Darcy upped the ante, letting Steve lead the way through the crowd again, but this time she caught the belt loops on either side of his stupidly tiny waist and let herself push up against his back anytime he was forced to stop. She was counting that one for her side, given the way she could feel him suck in a breath every time her breasts brushed against him, but she wasn’t entirely unaffected herself (and he could probably tell since the state of her nipples was embarrassingly obvious even through the fabric of both of their shirts, although she planned to blame the air-conditioning if he called her on it) so it was probably a wash.

But by the time they were sliding into a cozy corner booth for dinner Darcy was starting to wonder if she'd read things wrong and was just embarrassing him. Any other guy she'd met would've made a move after half as many signals as she'd sent Steve today (hell, a lot of them made a move with  _no_  signals, like the douchebag yesterday who couldn't take a hint).

What she  _meant_  to do was to figure out a way to subtly determine if he was actually interested or if she'd been spending a whole day getting herself worked up with no end in sight. What actually happened, seeing as she was still herself (no end in sight for  _that_ , either), was that she just said "So, have we been flirting all day?"

Steve had clearly adjusted quickly to dealing with whatever came out of her mouth, because a couple of slow blinks were his only visible reaction to the complete randomness of that question. "Well, if you don't know, then I must be doing something wrong."

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to the table as she shredded her straw wrapper into confetti. "I thought we were, but..."

"But?"

"But normally a guy who's interested would have at least kissed me by now." She swept the tiny paper pieces into a pile, not looking up at him. "If I'm just bugging you, I can stop. I do know how to take a hint. You don't have to humor me."

"Darcy." She kept her eyes firmly on her hands. "Darcy, look at me," he said, reaching over to take her hand, his voice warm and coaxing.

She met Steve's eyes across the table and lost her breath at the unmistakable heat in his gaze. "I'm interested," he said quietly. "Been interested since the first minute I saw you. The more time I spend with you, the more interested I get."

"Then why..." she trailed off, hating the insecurity she was showing, but unable to stop herself.

"“I don’t wanna push. I know if you’re not comfortable, you’ve got no problem tellin’ me to go to hell.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Saw that yesterday. But..." He rubbed his free hand over the top of his head. "Especially after what that asshole was doing, I don't wanna be the guy who's pushing you into something you don't really want."

She smiled slowly. "So what you're saying is you want me to make a move?"

He nodded, flushing adorably, and she was about to say the hell with dinner and find out exactly how he kissed when his stomach let out a long, drawn-out grumble.

"Seriously?" she said. "We just had lunch like five hours ago! And you got a snack out of the vending machine! Do you die if you don't eat your body weight in food every two hours?"

He flushed even redder. "It's some kinda genetic thing," he muttered, not meeting her eyes. "Sorry. I do have to eat pretty often."

"No, no, it's okay, we'll eat," she said. In deference to the fact that he was a blusher, she waited until after the waitress had taken their order and was out of earshot before she leaned across the table and dropped her voice to a seductive purr. "You're gonna need your strength."

 


	3. Let You Set the Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy makes a move (and Steve's got some moves).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from ["Love Me Like You Do" by Ellie Goulding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJtDXIazrMo)
> 
> Warning: This chapter is not safe for work

"I thought we were going back to the hotel," Steve said, as he followed Darcy into the small park.

"We are," she confirmed, keeping them moving until she found a place with no other people in sight. "But we’re going here first."

"Okay," he said gamely, obviously having determined that it was easier to just roll with it until she decided to explain.

She grinned wickedly at him as she hopped up to sit on the stone retaining wall, which was almost high enough to put them at eye level. "Steve?"

He lifted one eyebrow ( _how the hell does he do that? I've gotta learn that trick_ ). "Yeah?"

"You need to come over here and kiss me."

His eyes went from confusion to heat almost instantly as he processed what she'd said. "Yes, ma'am," he rasped, closing the distance between them in seconds. He slid one big hand around to cradle the back of her head, tugging her toward him until he could capture her mouth with his.

After their conversation at dinner, she'd thought he might be a little hesitant, a little tentative, that she'd have to coax him. Darcy had time for a moment of pleasant surprise at the way he took control of the kiss before her body decided that there were more important things to focus on, like the fact that Steve's lips were just as soft as they'd looked all day, and that his tongue still tasted of the maple butter sauce from his dessert, and that he was standing between her legs, one hand on the small of her back, pulling her up against him.

She whimpered a little when he caught her lower lip lightly between his teeth before pulling away, but he didn't go far, sucking her earlobe into his mouth and nibbling at it before nuzzling his way down her neck. When his teeth closed lightly on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, she couldn't control the way her hips arched up toward him, and his smug chuckle turned into a groan that echoed her own when she felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing between her legs.

He pressed his forehead to hers, sucking in a shaky breath. "Darcy, you gotta tell me if I'm going too fast. I...we..." he stopped for a minute and took another breath, visibly collecting himself. "It's, uh, been awhile since I--"

He cut off abruptly as she wrapped her legs around his waist and took his face in her hands. "Steve," she said as firmly as she could manage. "I would like very much for you to take me back to the hotel and fuck my brains out."

He smiled, slow and wicked, said, “I can do that,” and leaned down to kiss her one more time, licking into her mouth and grinding relentlessly against her. When he finally pulled away, it took her a minute to realize that her hands had somehow found their way under his shirt. The way the muscles of his back flexed under her hand felt so good that it took a major effort of will to pull her hands away.

"Hotel?" he asked, and although his smile was smug, she was pretty sure hers matched it, because his voice was absolutely wrecked, low and raspy, and if he sounded like that just from a few minutes of (admittedly really fucking awesome) making out in a park, she couldn't wait to hear what he sounded like in private.

"Hotel," she confirmed, blinking a little as he lifted her down from the top of the wall like she weighed about nothing, which was definitely not the case. "Dude, how strong are you?"

He shrugged, taking her hand and starting off in the direction of the hotel. "I work out some."

She snorted a little. "Yeah, okay, and I think Nutella tastes all right, I guess. Seriously, though."

His lips quirked up a little as he glanced sideways at her. "Strong enough to hold you up and fuck you against a wall if you want."

She tried to pretend that her mouth hadn't gone completely dry at that mental image.  _Oh, thank Thor, we’re here_ . "Maybe next time," she said as they passed through the hotel doors, trying for flippant. "The wall doesn't sound terribly comfortable at the moment."

"Fair enough," he said, his smile widening as he led her into the elevator.

She glanced at him questioningly as he pressed the button marked 17. He tugged her into the corner of the elevator with him and checked to be sure that no one else was paying any attention to them before leaning down to murmur in her ear. "I have a king-sized bed."

"Good plan," she answered faintly, trying to pretend that she hadn't just shivered from the way his breath whispered across her skin. From the way his hands tightened on her hips, she was pretty sure he'd noticed.

The elevator ride was agonizingly slow, feeling the solid warmth of him behind her, the urgent press of his erection against the small of her back, the way his fingers just barely brushed up under the hem of her shirt, and not being able to touch him in return. By the time the doors opened on the 17th floor she felt like she was about to jump out of her skin.

Thankfully, his room was only a few doors down from the elevator. She retaliated for the elevator by wrapping herself around him as he fished his key card out of his pocket, letting her hands slide up under his t-shirt to find skin and pressing her breasts into his back. His breath hitched, but he managed not to fumble the key card, pulling her into the room and pressing her up against the wall before the door closed behind them. He grabbed her ass and lifted until she could wrap her legs around his waist again, devouring her mouth like he'd been waiting forever to taste her.

"Sure you don't want to change your mind about the wall?" he teased once he finally tore his mouth away.

Darcy sucked in a breath as he pressed into her, letting her ride the hard, thick line of his cock. "No way, soldier. You promised me a bed."

"Picky," he said with a smile, tightening his hands on her ass and lifting her away from the wall. She squeaked a little and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her further into the room and set her on her feet next to a truly enormous bed. "Will this be acceptable?"

She sighed dramatically, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the smile that kept tipping up the corners of her mouth. "I suppose we'll make do."

"Good," he said, his grin widening in answer. "Now, where were we?"

She shrugged, feigning elaborate unconcern. "Well, I already made my request."

His eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide, and his smile became almost predatory. "So you did." He curled his fingers in the hem of her tank top, lifting it up and over her head. He dropped it to the floor and watched intently as he traced one finger along the edge where her bra met skin.

"Been trying not to stare at your chest all day," Steve rumbled, looking darkly satisfied when she shivered under his touch. "Not polite, I know, but it's so hard not to. And you wanted me to look, didn't you, Darcy? Wanted me to see these gorgeous tits, see exactly what you were offering." His hands closed gently over her breasts and she whimpered. "Answer me," he said, and the unmistakable snap of command in his voice had her mouth opening before she realized she'd decided to speak.

"Y-yeah, I wanted you to look."

He scraped his thumbnails across her nipples and she whimpered again, her knees going weak. "Oh, I looked. And I liked what I saw. Had to go in the restroom at lunch and jerk myself off so I wouldn't be walking around with a hard-on all day." She made some kind of noise at that confession and he smirked at her. "You like that? Like thinking about me fucking my fist because I couldn't stop looking at your pretty breasts?"

She nodded helplessly and he leaned down to kiss her again, his hands sliding around to unhook her bra. She had a moment of amazement at the dexterity with which he peeled her out of the crisscrossing straps, but then his hands were back on her, curving over her ass and pulling her flush against him, the softness of his t-shirt rubbing against her breasts.

He didn’t so much break the kiss as relocate it, kissing his way down her neck, lifting her breasts almost reverently in his hands as he licked across first one nipple, and then the other. She shuddered, hands clutching desperately at his shoulders, unable to look away from his eyes, hot and heavy-lidded as he watched her.

He lavished one last lick on her nipple before dropping to his knees in front of her, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them and her panties down her legs to the floor, lifting first one foot free and then the other before pushing her gently down onto the bed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and joined her on the bed, bracing himself above her with one hand, kissing her, swallowing her gasps as he slid his other hand up her thigh and stroked lightly across her pussy.

“So wet for me,” Steve murmured approvingly against her mouth as he slipped two fingers inside, curling them until he found her g-spot and she arched up off the bed. “You gonna come for me, Darcy?”

“Keep that up--ah--and I’ll see what I can do,” she snarked back half-heartedly, but the fact that she couldn’t stop the little breathy moans coming out of her mouth as he kept his fingers moving inside her didn’t really help. When his mouth curled up into that absolutely filthy smirk and he circled her clit with his thumb, she gave up all pretense of being unaffected, tipping her head back against the pillow and letting the orgasm wash over her.

He waited until she opened her eyes again before sliding his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking her wetness off of them. She couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her and his eyes darkened even more. “You taste so fucking good,” he rasped, standing up and unbuttoning his jeans. “Wanna fuck you now, sweetheart."

Darcy nodded, unable to speak (when was the last time <i>that</i> happened?), sucking in a breath as he dropped his jeans and boxers to the floor. Steve's chest and arms were a work of art, but Steve fully naked was a sight that would be burned into her memory forever. She was so mesmerized by the flex of his muscles that she didn't notice what he was doing until he'd retrieved a condom from the bedside table, ripped it open, and was rolling it onto his (thick, hard,  _God_  I have got to get my mouth on that next time) cock.

Before she had a chance to be grateful that she hadn't had to be the one to bring up protection, Steve was back on the bed, leaning over to kiss her hungrily. "You ready for me, Darcy?" he asked, positioning himself so the tip of his cock was just barely pressed against her pussy, almost, but not quite hard enough to slip inside.

She nodded, trying to pull him down for another kiss and roll her hips up to take him inside, but he pulled back and pinned her hips down, one big hand splayed firmly across her stomach. "Nuh-uh," he teased, eyes sparkling wickedly. "Wanna hear you say it. Where's that mouthy girl I spent today with? Talk to me, Darcy. You ready for me?"

"I'm ready!" she snapped, trying to pretend that the way he held her effortlessly in place with one hand wasn't hot as hell.

"Ready for what?" he returned, his voice low and rough. "C'mon, darlin'. Wanna hear you say the words."

_Fine_  "Ready for you to fuck me, Steve," she said, making her voice low and breathy (which took embarrassingly little effort). "I'm so wet, please, need you to fuck me right now."

He pushed inside her, shallow thrusts that brushed against her g-spot but weren't nearly enough. "That what you want?"

She shook her head, trying to take him deeper, but he still held her pinned.

"What do you want, Darcy?" he asked, his voice elaborately casual, almost conversational, still fucking her with short, shallow thrusts.

"More!" she demanded, a little embarrassed that she'd been reduced to single-word answers, but the transformation of aw-shucks Steve into this confident, dirty-talking sex god was breathtaking. "Harder!"

He braced his arms on the bed on either side of her head, kissing her deep and wet and filthy. "You want me to fuck you harder?" he purred in her ear. "Ask me nicely."

"Please, Steve," ( _Fuck, is that my voice?_ )"please fuck me harder." He rewarded that request by pushing just a little further inside of her, so she pulled out the big guns, desperate for more. "Want you to fuck me through the mattress, pound that big hard cock into my pussy. Make me scream."

She had time to feel a moment of triumph when the steady rhythm of his hips stuttered and then he was sliding deep inside in one hard thrust that stole her breath. "Like that?" he growled, setting a pace just the right side of punishing.

"God, yes, please, just like that," she exhaled, trying to catch her breath and failing, not even able to care about the endless stream of babble escaping her mouth as she climbed toward a second orgasm. "Steve, fuck, feels so good, yes, please..."

He pushed up suddenly until he was kneeling on the bed, taking the legs that she'd wrapped loosely around his waist and pushing them back toward her chest, and the change in angles had him sliding over her g-spot every time he thrust. She couldn't bring herself to care about the sounds that she was making, broken-off moans, "yes" and "more" and "Steve" and "please," but soon she couldn't even manage those words, moaning louder and louder.

"Come for me again, Darcy," he demanded. "Scream for me."

And she did, her body responding to his voice and his orders and the hard, thick slide of his cock inside of her like it was the only thing that mattered. She screamed his name as she came, arching up off the bed, and Steve groaned and moved faster, his hips snapping as he fucked into her, and the way he thrust hard and deep inside her as he came set her off again, her fingernails digging into his forearms as she gasped for breath.

They stayed like that for several long moments, chests heaving, covered in sweat, shuddering through the last of their orgasms, before Steve pulled out slowly, leaving the bed to dispose of the condom. Darcy stretched out her legs but otherwise stayed exactly as she was, forcing her breathing to slow, heart still pounding in her chest as Steve stretched himself out next to her, propping himself up on an elbow.

He set a hand on her stomach, hesitantly, like he wasn't sure if he was still allowed to touch her. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling on it  and wriggling toward him until his arm was wrapped comfortably across her waist.

"I'm a cuddler," she announced airily. "You're just going to have to deal with it."

He chuckled. "I can do that."

She wriggled closer, seeking the warmth radiating off him, since the air-conditioned room suddenly seemed a little on the chilly side, and raised her eyebrows when she felt his erection poking her hip.

He jerked his hips back like she'd burned him. "Sorry. I--it--uh, it'll go away on its own. They tell me it's part of that genetic thing."

Darcy rolled until she was facing him. "So you're usually still hard after sex, and you just wait for it to go away? Sounds like a waste of a perfectly good erection to me."

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Just kinda seems, I dunno, greedy?”

“So you think I’m greedy because I have multiple orgasms?” she asked.

“What?!? No!” he sputtered. “That’s not--I don’t--”

She leaned in to kiss him. “Relax, Steve. How many times do you usually have to come before you're done?"

He flushed. "It depends. Two or three, usually."

She shoved at his shoulder until he was on his back and started kissing her way down his chest, enjoying the way the muscles jumped under her tongue as she traced the lines of his abs. "Well," she said finally. "You were really doing most of the work there, not that I'm complaining, so how about I help you out with this?"

"You really don't ha---" his words died in a sharp intake of breath as she swiped her tongue across the head of his cock before swallowing him down as far as she could (sadly, not that far; _how long has it been? Jesus, I'm turning into as big of a hermit as Jane_ ). Steve didn't seem likely to complain, though. When she rolled her eyes up to look at him, he had his head tipped back against the pillow, hands fisted against the bed.

She kept moving, taking him down a little deeper each time, but managed to pull one of his hands up to her head. He took the hint, threading his fingers through her hair, but still didn’t try to control her movements. She slid slowly down until his cock hit her throat and paused, breathing carefully through her nose, before she swallowed.

His fingers tightened reflexively in her hair and he groaned. “Fuck, Darcy, feels so good. God, your mouth--” he broke off, moaning, as she did it again.

She pulled out every trick she knew, using lips and tongue to drive him crazy before pulling off and working him with her hand while she moved down and ran her tongue lightly over his balls. He shuddered all over, so she did it again, and again, until he was moaning out a warning and coming over her hand.

She kept stroking him until he gasped, “Stop, please, stop, fuck.” By the time she got back from cleaning herself off in the bathroom it was clear that twice had done the trick, his cock softening against his leg.

It was her turn to come hesitantly back into the bed; this was his room, after all, and while it didn’t seem likely that Steve was the kind of guy to kick a girl out right after sex, she didn’t really know him all _that_  well. But before she could overthink things too much ( _Darcy Lewis, ladies and gentlemen! Able to leap to several horrible conclusions at one time!_ ), he was grabbing her hand and tugging her over to half-sprawl across him, catching her mouth for a long, sweet kiss.

“Can you stay?” he asked. “For a little while, anyway?”

“Yeah,” she said, pillowing her head on his shoulder and snuggling into his warmth. “I can stay.”

 


	4. What Are You Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're still in bed, if that tells you anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title (again) is from [Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJtDXIazrMo)
> 
> Warning: This chapter is not safe for work

Steve woke up suddenly, heart racing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The last thing he remembered was his arm wrapped around Darcy, his hand rubbing lazy circles on her back as she snuggled into his side. Now the red numbers on the clock read 5:23 and for once he'd gotten a few hours of sleep without dreams. Without explosions and blood and death and always, always, the look in Bucky's eyes as he fell.

He'd slept, and now he was lying on one side, one arm draped loosely over Darcy where she was cuddled back against his chest, stray bits of her her hair tickling his nose. He was pretty sure the arm under her head would be asleep if he was still original Steve Rogers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care while soaking up the warmth and the unbelievable comfort of another person’s skin against his, of not being alone.

Certain parts of his body were greedy, though, and he could feel himself getting hard; not really surprising, given the way the soft curve of her ass was pressing back against his cock. He was frankly surprised that he hadn’t woken up already hard as a rock, but the two quick orgasms in the bathroom at lunch and the two much more satisfying ones with Darcy last night must have taken the edge off more than he thought.

He eased his hips back, fighting the instinct to bury himself in her again. Darcy wasn’t a super soldier. She needed her sleep. But when he tried to lift his arm so he could sneak off to the bathroom and take care of things on his own, she wrapped both her arms around his, wriggling back until she was plastered up against him again.

“Mmmm,” she hummed sleepily, grinding her ass lazily back against his cock, eyes still closed. “Is that for me?”

"Do you want it to be?" he murmured into her ear. "Still early. You could go back to sleep."

She snorted softly. "Yeah, sex with you is a real hardship, Steve. All those orgasms...just terrible."

He kissed her neck, finding the spot that made her sigh and tip her head back against his shoulder. "I figure if you're gonna put up with me, you oughta get something outta it."

"Well, if you insist," she sighed, all mock-reluctance.

"Oh, I do," he assured her, sliding his hand up and curling it around her breast, skimming his thumb across the nipple until she was arching into his hand. He slid out of the way and eased her down onto her back, settling in and leaning down to drag his tongue across her nipple. "Just close your eyes and think of England."

Whatever reply she was about to make got lost in her sharp intake of breath as he circled her other nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. He let himself get lost in the taste of her skin, the different textures of it, the little sounds and movements she made under his mouth and hands, until she was begging, "Steve, I--I need more--I can't--please, Steve--oh, fuck,  _please._ .." He slid down to close his mouth over her clit and she sobbed with relief when she came.

She tried to pull him back up her body but he resisted, lifting her legs over his shoulders and diving back in to taste her, curling his tongue inside her pussy and licking over and around her clit until he found the spot that made her legs shake.

It took a little while to build her up after her last orgasm, but he licked and sucked until she was squirming underneath him again and he was grinding his cock against the bed just to get a little friction. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them until he found the spot he was looking for and she came again, her legs shaking, her body arching up off the bed.

When her thighs finally relaxed from around his head, he got to his knees, grabbing a condom and rolling it over his cock. "Still with me, Darcy?"

"Hmmm?" She blinked her eyes open, chest still heaving. "Oh, hell yes. Get up here and fuck me."

He leaned over to kiss her, only remembering at the last minute that his face was still covered in her wetness, but she returned the kiss enthusiastically, her tongue tangling with his. "As you wish," he gasped as he lifted his head, pushing inside her in one long, deep thrust.

He tried to keep his strokes slow and steady but his body had a mind of its own, picking up speed. Darcy moved with him, meeting his every thrust, until he gasped out "Darcy--Christ--'m gonna come" and thrust once, twice, three times before burying himself as deep inside her as he could go, shuddering as he came

When he came back to awareness, Darcy’s hands were stroking soothingly up and down his back. He had his arms braced against the bed so she wasn’t taking his full weight, but he still had to be heavy. Reluctantly, he pulled out, sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment until his legs didn’t feel quite so shaky before disposing of the condom.

When he made it back to the bed, Darcy was already rummaging in the bedside table for another condom. He took a moment to marvel at her matter-of-fact acceptance of the serum’s effects (even the most appreciative partners in the past had often managed to make him feel more like a curiosity than a man) before she was tugging him down to sit with his back braced against the headboard.

“My turn to think of England?” he joked, sucking in a breath as she rolled the condom over his still-sensitive cock.

“Absolutely,” she returned with a smirk. “Gotta have a fair division of labor in a relationship, even if it’s just sex, or it’ll never work.”

Before Steve could react she was straddling him, her pussy still wet enough to take him fully inside in one long, slick slide. He closed his eyes and swallowed, focusing on the feeling of being once again surrounded by her warmth, pretending his heart hadn’t jumped when she said “relationship” and that all he cared about was getting off, no matter who it was with.

And then she started to move, long, leisurely strokes up and down until he opened his eyes again, because if it was just for the weekend, if this was all he got to have of Darcy, he was goddamn well going to remember this.

“There we go,” she said when their eyes met, bracing her hands on his shoulders. “You still with me, Steve?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he said honestly. “Jesus, you’re a gorgeous fuckin’ sight, Darcy.” She flushed a little, and he felt her shiver once, then again as he skimmed his hands lightly up her ribcage to cup her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, delighted when the flush spread down her neck and across her chest. “Could watch you all day, never get tired of it. Your eyes, your mouth, the way this pretty skin turns pink when I embarrass you. And these gorgeous tits. Can’t believe I didn’t ask you to ride me before, so I could see how they move.”

He rubbed teasing circles across her breasts with his thumbs as he talked, never quite touching her nipples, until she snapped, “Goddamnit, Steve, quit teasing me and play with my nipples.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he said agreeably, scraping his thumbnails across them before squeezing gently. She immediately started moving faster, rolling her hips and grinding down on him, her hands coming up to grip his wrists and hold him in place.

“Fuck, yes, that, keep doing that, please, yes, don’t stop,” she chanted, riding him faster and harder. Even through the condom he could feel how wet she was, and soon she wasn’t even speaking, just moaning. When she came, her nails digging into his wrists, he had a moment to be sorry for how fast the marks would heal before the hot, tight grip of her pussy around his cock had him coming again too.

Darcy slumped against him, her head dropping to his shoulder and they sat there for endless moments, their chests heaving, bodies covered in sweat, the smell of sex thick in the air. One of his hands was rubbing circles on her back, the other was combing lazily through her hair and he couldn’t think of a time when he’d wanted to move less.

Eventually, though with great reluctance, she climbed off of him  and snuggled down into the bed while he dealt with the condom. When he slipped under the covers again she nestled against him without hesitation, looping an arm and a leg over his. “Sleep now?” she yawned.

“Sure,” he said, although he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. He was definitely unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep.”

She yawned again as she closed her eyes, cuddling closer and snoring adorably within minutes. Steve didn’t even realize he’d followed her into sleep until he woke up with her still wrapped around him.

 


	5. Thanks For The Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parting is such sweet sorrow...okay, not actually that sweet. Darcy and Steve go back to their real lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [Thnks fr th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onzL0EM1pKY)

 

"Can't believe it's Sunday already," Darcy said, leaning back against the headboard and waving away the last bite of surprisingly good room service apple pie a la mode. She was too full to even contemplate the mystery of why Steve's ears had turned a little pink as he ordered it. "Con's almost over. This weekend went really fast."

He nodded, chewing and swallowing. "Yeah, it did. Can't believe I have to head back to DC tonight."

She tried (and probably failed; gotta work on that poker face, Darcy) to act like she wasn't mentally pouncing on this piece of information. "So DC's home?"

He shrugged, chasing the last bit of ice cream around the plate with a spoon. "About half the time. Often enough that it's easier to have a place to crash. When I'm not doing jobs for that, uh, company, I stay with a--buddy in New York."

"Small world," she said, as casually as she could manage. "Jane's setting up her lab in New York as we speak. If Th--her boyfriend hasn't dragged her off for loud, wall-banging sex yet."  _Wow, Darcy, way to go off on a tangent. Stick to the point!_  "Anyway, what I was trying to say was, next time you're in New York, call me or shoot me a text. I'll buy you a coffee or something." She peeked up at him, trying to play it cool, like she invited casual booty-calls out for coffee all the time.

Steve grinned at her, and she was so relieved that she managed to firmly ignore the warmth it ignited in her chest. "It's a date." He leaned a little closer. "You've got something there."

"Where?" she asked, looking down.

He picked up the spoon and drizzled melted ice cream across her breasts. "Right there."

With his tongue tracing the sticky line over her skin, she could pretend, just for a moment, that it didn't have to end.

* * *

"Well, this is me," Darcy said, a little awkwardly, standing from her seat as the PA announced boarding for the commuter train to New York. Steve had insisted on accompanying her to the station, even though his train to DC didn't leave until two hours after hers.  _Can I hug him? Is that too weird? Fuck, now I'm making it weird. Way to go, Lewis._  "I..."

Steve looked at her from under those stupidly long lashes. "I had a lot of fun this weekend. Not just the, uh, sex. Not that that wasn't fun! It really was! I just..." he trailed off, cheeks flushing, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "I have no idea how to talk to women," he muttered.

She snorted, her awkwardness melting away in the face of his. "I dunno, you do pretty well in bed," she teased, just to see his blush darken. _Fuck it_ , she decided, and stepped in for the hug, reassured when his arms came around her with no hesitation, holding on just as tightly as she was.

"I had fun, too," she reassured him when she reluctantly stepped back. "But since you made the fatal mistake of letting me know that you can and will text me back, you can now expect random texts at any time. You'll never know when I might strike."

He shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I may not be able to answer right away if I'm working, but I'd like to hear from you."

"You may change your mind after the 800th cat picture," she teased.

"Somehow I doubt it," he said, his eyes softening. He lifted a hand to her face, leaning closer, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then back up to her eyes. "Can I?" he asked softly.

She nodded wordlessly, and he leaned in slowly as she stood on tiptoe to meet him, his other hand dropping to her waist to steady her. He kissed her, soft and sweet, and she felt herself melt into him.

When he lifted his head, it was only a little comforting to see the frustrated longing in his eyes that she was sure matched  her own. He sighed as he stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets as though he couldn't trust them not to reach for her ( _Jeez, Darcy, someone's a little full of themselves today, huh?_ ).

"Bye, Darcy," he said softly.

She had to swallow to make sure her voice wouldn't crack. "Talk to you soon, Steve."

One corner of his mouth curled up. "I'll be waiting."

She forced herself to turn and head for the train, boarding and finding a seat just before it lurched into motion. When she looked out the window, he was still standing there, watching. His eyes found hers almost immediately, and he lifted a hand, still with that almost-smile on his lips. She raised her own, keeping her eyes on him until he was out of sight.

* * *

 

Steve was in his apartment, trying to decide if the quiet was comforting or unnerving, when his phone made the little popping sound that indicated a new text message. He may or may not have checked it a few (twenty--okay, okay, twenty-seven) times on the way back to DC to be sure it was on and had reception. Fortunately there was no one in his apartment to notice the way it skidded across the floor when he fumbled it out of his pocket, ending up so far under a chair he had to get down on the floor to fish it out.

When he finally got it out, he just sat there on the floor for a minute, banging his head lightly against the chair. _Smooth, Rogers._  And damn if it didn't give him a little pang that the voice in his head still sounded, probably would always sound, like Bucky. _Ninety-four years old, marvel of science, still not worth a damn when a pretty dame's involved, huh?_

He took a deep breath and unlocked the phone, not sure what to expect.

**Darcy: KILL ME NOW**

** Steve: ??? **

** Darcy: I mentioned that Jane and her boyfriend had been long-distance for awhile, right? **

** Steve: Yeah **

** Darcy: Now, I sympathize. I do. Lack of regular sex is no fun, and it's enough to make anyone cranky. But how long do you think it will be before I can reasonably expect them to NOT be having sex for 14 out of the 24 hours in a day? **

** Steve: Couldn't say, really. **

**Darcy: *sigh*   
Darcy: It's not that I'd mind, except my room shares a wall with hers**

** Steve: Ah. A little loud? **

** Darcy: I'm currently thinking of investing in some of those earmuffs that the guys on airport runways wear. Except I'm not sure that'd be enough to block it all out **

** Steve: Wow **

**Darcy: Yeah   
Darcy: I might be less grumpy about it if I had someone here myself. But as it is, it's just reminding me that while I did recently have some pretty incredible sex, I'm not, at the moment. Don't suppose you're gonna be in NYC anytime soon?**

Steve bit his lip and closed his eyes, taking long, deliberate breaths before opening them to respond.

** Steve: Probably not for at least a couple weeks, sorry **

****Darcy: :(  
Darcy: I figured. Well, if I can't sleep, I guess it's time for some mindless entertainment   
Darcy: Wanna watch something with me?

** Steve: Sure. What'd you have in mind? **

They eventually settled on something called “Firefly”, which Darcy was a little outraged that he hadn't watched before. After a certain amount of back and forth (and Darcy checking to be sure the wartime scenes wouldn’t bother him-- “I promise I’ll ask you to stop if they do, okay?”), Steve found himself settled in his bed with the laptop Tony had tossed carelessly at him the last time he left the Tower ("Supposed to be super rugged, or so R&D tells me. Let's see how it stands up to you, Iceman."), opening the website address Darcy had sent him. After asking him to enter a name for people to call him, it loaded a page with a video window and a chat window.

**Darcy: Wish my webcam was working so we could video chat, but that’d probably slow down the stream way too much anyway**

** Steve: Probably be way too tempting for me to just look at you and ignore the show **

** Darcy: Well, now I want to get a working webcam and give you a show. Or you could give me one… **

** Steve: Do you want me to watch this thing? Or do you want to talk about this some more? **

** Darcy: Oh, you NEED to watch this show. Not optional. But we WILL return to this discussion at a later date. **

** Steve smiled and settled back against the headboard, tucking away the mental image of Darcy “giving him a show” for future contemplation. **

**Hours later, Darcy paused the video after the end of “The Train Job.”**

**Darcy: Well?**

** Steve: What happens next? **

** Darcy: Mwahaha! Just as I planned. You have become one of us! But the ruckus from next door has finally stopped, so I should probably get some shuteye before they start up again at godawful o’clock in the morning **

** Steve: But… **

** Darcy: And don’t even think about watching it without me, mister! **

**Steve: Fine   
Steve: But why didn’t they get any Chinese actors for the main parts? Since supposedly it’s this big melting pot of America and China?**

**Darcy: That is a mystery for the ages. No, not really. Short version: it was made in America, so they didn’t bother casting Chinese actors**

**Steve: Well, that’s stupid. I guess nothing's perfect, huh?**

**Darcy: Yeah. Want to watch some more tomorrow night?**

**Steve: Sounds good to me**

**Darcy: Welcome to the Browncoats! Good night!**

**Steve: Good night**  


	6. All I Do Is Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has a rude awakening, but a pretty good day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGXzlRoNtHU>)

"Nooooooo," Darcy groaned when the noises from next door started up again. She scrabbled for her phone with eyes still closed, prying one open to check the time. "It's not even seven yet, for Christ's sake! Are you two part bunny or something?"

She pulled her pillow over her head, but all that did was slightly muffle the noises further. After a few minutes she gave up, tossing her pillow at the wall in disgust and stumbling into the bathroom for a shower.

Five minutes later, the world's fastest shower complete (apparently sound travels even  _better_  through pipes! Hurray for knowledge), Darcy pulled her damp hair back into a messy bun and scrambled into a pair of jeans and the first shirt she happened to grab. "Jarvis, please tell me there's coffee somewhere in this building, or I might have to find out if alien demi-gods can be killed."

"Take the elevator to the common floor," the AI answered her, and she was too grateful for the information to resent the calm, level tone. "Mr. Stark has provided a coffee machine for Tower residents."

"You're the best, J," she said fervently, stepping into the elevator as he opened the doors for her.

"I aim to please, Miss Lewis," he returned smoothly.

The elevator doors opened again after what felt like mere seconds, but she couldn't be a hundred percent sure she hadn't nodded off propped up against the wall. She crossed the large living area, weaving drunkenly around the furniture, and made it into the kitchen, where she came to a standstill in front of what all her caffeine-deprived instincts said was a coffee machine.

After a few minutes of poking at it, she gave up. "What, do you need a Ph.D to operate this thing? J, a little help here?"

"The machine is voice-activated," Jarvis informed her. "Simply state your desired ingredients and quantity and place your mug under the spout."

Darcy blinked. "Seems surprisingly straightforward for something Tony Stark built. What's the catch?"

"No catch," the AI assured her. "Miss Potts has threatened to reinstate Mr. Stark as the CEO of Stark Industries if he interferes with her morning coffee in any way. He takes her threats very seriously."

"I would, too," Darcy muttered, rummaging through the cabinet in search of a large enough mug. Pepper Potts was a lovely lady who had warmly welcomed Jane and Darcy into the Tower and even seemed to mean it. She also reminded Darcy very strongly of her tenth grade English teacher, Mrs. Dinsmore, almost universally beloved by the students of Eisenhower High, but God help you if she caught you slacking, because Mrs. D sure wouldn't.

She put her mug under the spout, then cleared her throat, feeling a little silly. "Uh, I need eight ounces of arabica with a shot of espresso and an ounce of cream, please?"

"If I may," Jarvis interjected, "the machine is also capable of creating flavored drinks. Mr. Stark installed a full range of flavored syrups and whipped cream."

"Oh! Uh, in that case, can I have a mocha latte with a shot of hazelnut?"

The machine beeped affirmatively at her and started gurgling away. Darcy leaned back against the counter, letting her eyes drift shut, only to jump upright a moment later when Tony Stark dropped his mug on the counter next to her with a bang.

"Lewis, right?" he asked, jittering with the kind of manic energy that her experienced eye categorized as Scientist Awake for More Than 24 Hours, Apply Decaf Immediately Or Risk Explosions. "Pea under your mattress or something?"

"Hey,  _you_ < try sleeping through a Norse god having very enthusiastic reunion sex with his girlfriend next door," Darcy grumbled, making a grab for her mug as the machine twirled it around to create an artistic little mound of whipped cream on top and pushed it toward her with a pleased chirp. She inhaled the steam with a grateful little whimper, paying no attention to the irrelevant scientist shoving his own mug under the spout.

"I designed those rooms to be soundproof," he grumped, crossing his arms and looking for all the world like a pouting teenager. "You shouldn't be able to hear anything."

She rolled her eyes, taking a cautious sip and sighing in satisfaction. Even the temperature was perfect, pleasantly hot, but not enough to burn. "Dude, he's the god of  _thunder._  Thunder is a sound wave. You do the math."

"Stupid fucking Asgardians and their stupid fucking super science," Tony muttered. "Magic! My ass it's magic." She revised her estimate to Scientist Awake for More Than 36 Hours, Locate Nearest Fire Extinguisher. "J, do we have enough recordings of Thunder Boy's voice to mock up some samples in the lab, see if we can see where the soundproofing fails?"

"Current storage holds approximately 13 hours, 42 minutes of Prince Thor's voice," Jarvis answered.

"Ha!" Tony slapped the counter, grabbing his coffee cup. "Defeat my soundproofing? We'll see about that. How about we find Darcy here somewhere else to sleep in the meantime? Can't have Foster's Girl Friday short on sleep."

"Certainly, sir," Jarvis said. "Miss Lewis, I believe there is an empty guest suite on the floor above yours if you would like to relocate there."

Darcy considered for a moment doing the polite thing and insisting that she didn't need an entire suite, that her existing room was just fine. Then she remembered what it had been like last night, and at two in the morning, and again less than an hour ago (seriously, who the fuck even used the word "quim" in real life? Somebody needed to give Thor a quick rundown on Midgardian dirty talk) and closed her mouth.

"That'd be great, J. Point me to it." She waited until Tony was out of sight (and, presumably, hearing) and lowered her voice anyway, just to be on the safe side. "Oh and, uh, it might be time to switch him to decaf."

"Already done, Miss Lewis, but your concern is noted and appreciated."

Darcy shrugged. "Hey, I just moved here. I'd hate for the place to explode before I even finish unpacking."

* * *

The last of the cute little flatbed robots burbled approvingly as it deposited its load of boxes safely on the floor of Darcy's new suite and headed for the door.  _How can I tell I've been living in Tony Stark's place? I'm inferring emotional content from robot beeps._

"Is that everything, Miss Lewis?" Jarvis inquired politely.

"Yeah, that's it, J," she answered, shoving underwear into a drawer. "I'm still in the college student mindset; haven't had the chance to acquire much with Jane dragging me around after her."

"Enjoy your new quarters, then."

"It's so  _quiet_ ," she said with a blissful sigh. "Am I the only person on this floor?"

"The other suite is currently empty," Jarvis said (and was that evasiveness in his tone?), "since Captain Rogers is elsewhere, but he is the only other permanent occupant of this floor."

"Captain Rogers," Darcy repeated flatly. "You put me on the same floor as Captain Fucking America?!?"

"The Captain is frequently out of the Tower, and when he has been in residence, he has yet to engage in any activities that would disturb your sleep," Jarvis said primly. "The same can not be said of the other floors with available quarters."

"Okay, okay," Darcy relented. "Sorry, J, didn't mean to question your judgement. I guess I'm still not as ready as I thought for this whole 'living in the superhero clubhouse' thing. And I've got my own bathroom in here, so I guess I don’t have to worry about walking down the hall in a towel or anything."

"I believe you and Captain Rogers will be able to coexist quite peacefully when he is here," Jarvis said.

"I'll take your word for it until I've actually met the guy," she answered, returning to her unpacking.

By eight, she'd managed to find places for her somewhat meager belongings. The little ceramic dragon that had managed to come through her entire college career unscathed was curled up on the mantel shelf (she had a fucking fireplace with a mantel shelf; they'd definitely come up in the world) with her knitted zombie doll leaning against it, her art prints were hanging on the walls, and her stash of soft, fuzzy blankets was scattered strategically around -- a couple in the bedroom, two more on the couch and overstuffed chair in her little seating area, and one on the couch in the common area outside her door, because there was  _no_  way she was going to let that giant TV go to waste.

She was considering getting showered and heading to the lab to check on Jane when her phone buzzed.

** Jane: Not going to be in until ten or so. Sleep in if you want to! **

She sighed, texted back an acknowledgement, and tucked the phone back in her pocket.  _Not a chance in hell, Janey. What does Tony put in that coffee, anyway? Is he brewing genetically modified super-caffeinated beans? No sleep for Darcy, whatever they are. Shit. Might as well go run_ .

* * *

Darcy didn’t realize that someone had come into the gym until Jarvis lowered the volume on her running playlist to “non-damaging” levels, too busy slogging doggedly through the end of her third mile on the treadmill ( _thank you, Shock Absorber Level 4, for making sure my boobs don’t bitchslap me as I run_ <) to pay much attention to her surroundings. At any other time, recognizing the curvy redhead stretching on the mats in front of the treadmills would have induced a worryingly awkward amount of fangirling, but at the moment, she was mainly just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

Darcy finally finished her 3.1 miles ( _and if I ever have to run more than that from a baddie, they can just fucking kill me, okay?_ ) and gratefully started her cooldown as the treadmill slowed to a walking pace. The Black Widow ( _the FUCKING BLACK WIDOW!!!_ ) finished her stretches and stepped up onto the next treadmill.

“You must be Darcy,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I’m Natasha.”

“Hi,” Darcy said, proud of how completely non-squeaky her voice managed to be. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m kinda gross right now.”

“Fair enough,” Natasha said easily. “So you’re a runner?”

Darcy snorted inelegantly. “Only in the sense that I run, not that I’m any good at it. But after you’ve been chased by giant fire-breathing alien robots and dark elf space aliens, and woken up the next morning feeling like someone beat you with a stick, it seems like a much higher priority to suck a little bit less at running.”

“Makes sense,” Natasha nodded. “If you ever want some self-defense pointers,  let me know.”

“Thanks,” Darcy said, swallowing the  _Holy shit, really?_  that tried to bubble up. “I may take you up on that some day when I don’t have to shower and get to the lab. I probably won’t need it, but it never hurts to learn something new, right?”

“That’s what I’ve always thought,” Natasha agreed, breaking into a smooth run as her treadmill sped up. Darcy fought valiantly not to hate her a little bit for the fact that she even managed to look like a model while she was running. And failed.

Darcy wiped down her treadmill and left the gym with a little wave that she hoped didn’t look as awkward as it felt. Once the doors closed behind her she had to stop and lean against the wall for a minute.

“Jarvis, did the actual Black Freaking Widow just offer to teach me self-defense?”

“Based on my video records, I believe that to be the case, Miss Lewis,” Jarvis answered dryly.

“Holy _shit_!” Darcy did a little victory boogie down the hall to the elevator. “Best day _ever!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jarvis knows exactly who Darcy's been texting, and yes, he is matchmaking. He believes firmly that humans are happy and more productive when in good relationships and tries to assist with that whenever possible. It has nothing to do with him being a closet romantic. Nothing at all.


	7. Talking Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy has her first movie night with the Avengers (well, some of them). Oh, and there's phone sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Talking Body by Tove Lo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzRyxGBGiAE)
> 
> In case you didn't guess, this chapter is also not safe for work.

Darcy looked up from the data she was trying to corral into some sort of meaning when Jarvis made the little pinging noise that was his equivalent of throat-clearing.

 “Excuse me, Miss Lewis, Doctor Foster?”

 “What’s up, J?” Darcy asked, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes.

 “Mister Stark has asked me to convey to you that tonight is, and I quote, ‘movie night, suckers.’” Darcy suppressed a grin at the disdainful air quotes in Jarvis’ voice. “He has requested that both of you join the group in the movie room on the common floor at seven o’clock this evening."

 "Movie night, huh?" Darcy said "Is this a thing you guys do around here?"

 "Quite frequently," the AI answered. "Mister Stark enjoys introducing Prince Thor and Captain Rogers to modern movies, and Captain Rogers feels that such gatherings are good for team morale. We have movie nights quite often, even when some members are not currently in residence."

 "Sounds fun. I'm assuming there'll be food?"

 Darcy swore she heard Jarvis roll his eyes, which was quite a trick, considering he didn't have any. "When Mister Stark is involved, it is usually safe to assume there will be food and drink in quantities sufficient to daunt even Prince Thor."

 "Duly noted. I'll pry Jane out of the lab no later than 6:30 and we'll be there." Darcy turned back to her spreadsheet. "Did Tony say what movie we're watching?"

 "Prince Thor had demanded to know the source of the nicknames Mister Stark uses for members of the team. I believe we're up to 'Merida' on Agent Barton's list."

 Darcy grinned. "Ten bucks says Thor cries at the end."

 Jarvis's voice was drier than she'd ever heard it before. "As an artificial intelligence, I have no money of my own. Even if I did, I believe that would be what Mister Stark refers to as a 'sucker bet.'"

 "You bet your nonphysical ass it is." Darcy looked up from her computer. "Think Tony would take it?"

* * *

_"Our destiny is within us.  You just have to be brave enough to see it."_

 The music swelled, the credits rolled and Darcy nudged Tony, nodding over at Thor, whose face was clearly wet in the light reflected off the screen, even with Jane nestled against him, sound asleep. Tony followed her gaze, grimaced, and extracted a wad of crumpled cash from his pocket. He fished out a ten, handed it over, and jammed the rest back into his pocket.

 "So," Tony said, clapping his hands together briskly. "Who wants Chinese?"

* * *

**Steve: How was your day?**

 "Well, I won ten bucks off Tony Stark, and then I had Chinese takeout with most of the Avengers," Darcy said out loud, cursing the stack of nondisclosure agreements she'd had to sign after Puente Antiguo and before moving into the Tower. <i>Mental note: ask Natasha when she gets back if it's possible to have an actual relationship with someone without telling them the whole truth about what goes on in your life.</i>

_ Darcy: Oh, you know. Science! Movie night with Jane and her bf, Chinese after. Pretty good really. You? _

_ Steve: Not bad. Caught a mission, but mostly hurry up and wait _

_ Darcy: Aww, so no video chat? _

_ Steve: fraid not _

_Darcy: /pout _   
_Darcy: I was gonna try to talk you into something a little more interesting than just watching a show_

_ Steve: oh, yeah? Like what? _

Darcy raised her eyebrows. "Really?" She didn't know why she was surprised; Steve had always been right there with her for everything they did. But for some reason she'd assumed that he wouldn't be down for sexting. "Guess it just goes to show what happens when you assume."

** Darcy: weeeelllll, that depends. Can anybody else see your screen? **

** Steve: Nope. Got my own room and everything **

** Darcy: Hang on, I'm gonna call you **

She hit the button to dial Steve's number, ignoring the mental voice pointing out that she'd never actually called him before.

He picked up with gratifying speed. "Hey, doll."

"Hey yourself, soldier," she snarked, resolutely ignoring the way something in her calmed at the sound of his voice. "So you're all alone?"

"Yup. All by myself," he confirmed. "Gonna let me in on your plan?"

Darcy settled back against the headboard and gathered her nerve. "Well, I was planning on talking you into putting on a show for me over video chat, but you don't have your computer with you, do you?"

"No, sorry," he said, actually sounding regretful, before letting his voice drop to the low, intimate rumble that drove her insane. "What kind of show'd you have in mind? I'm not much of a dancer."

She licked her lips. "I want to see what it looks like when you get yourself off."

"Oh yeah?" His voice was still calm, but she'd heard his sharp intake of breath. "Would I get a show, too? You gonna let me watch you touch yourself?"

"If--" Darcy heard her voice crack and she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "If you want."

"Oh, I want," he purred into the phone. "On video and in person. But right now I'll settle for listening. Take your shirt off for me, Darcy."

"Okay, but fair's fair. Yours has to come off, too," she returned.

Steve laughed. "Already off. I don't like to sleep in my clothes if I don't have to."

"Then I guess I'd better catch up," she said archly. "Two seconds."

Steve listened to the rustle of clothes coming through the phone and forced himself to keep his breaths steady and even. There were times when he cursed his memory, the perfect recall gifted to him by the serum, but now wasn't one of them. Now he could close his eyes and remember Darcy--soft, pale skin, blue eyes, dark curls tumbling down over her shoulders, the heavy roundness of her breasts, the sweet curve of her hips, the long line of her legs...

"Back," she said into the phone, and the soft breathiness of her voice went straight to his cock. He'd been hard since she asked if he was alone, but with her voice in his ear and his memory of her clear in his mind's eye, he ached with the need to bury himself inside her soft, wet heat.

"Shirt off?" he asked, unable to keep the roughness out of his voice.

"Everything else, too," she confirmed.

He tsked. "Jumping the gun there, doll. I just said the shirt."

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Want me to make it up to you?"

"I want you to touch those gorgeous tits for me," he said, allowing himself to wrap his hand around his cock. He waited until he heard the breathy little gasp on the other end of the call before he started to move, stroking lightly for now. "There we go, sweetheart. Does that feel good?"

"Yeah. Feels better when you do it," she said, and Steve quickened his pace, remembering Darcy sinking down on his cock, his hands on her breasts as she moved.

"Wish I was doing it right now," he admitted. "Wish I was there right now, wanna watch you touch yourself for me. What do you think about when you get yourself off, Darcy?”

"Lately?" she asked, her voice almost defiant. "You, mostly. Think about your hands on me, your mouth, the way you fucked me."

Steve groaned, unable to stop himself from coming at that admission, the mental images, the memory of Darcy against him, under him, over him.

"That's one," she said, somehow managing to sound smug despite the little gasps and moans he could hear from her. "You think one more'll do it? Or are we gonna go for three?"

"Dunno," he rasped, "but right now it's your turn. Slide a couple of fingers into your pussy, doll. Are you nice and wet for me?"

"Y-yeah," she moaned.

His mind easily supplied him with a completely fabricated image: Darcy sprawled across a bed, legs spread, her fingers buried inside of herself, and he had to move his hand again, stroking up and down. "Want you to pretend I'm there, watching you, sweetheart," he ordered. "Rub your clit for me. I want you to get there as fast as you can."

"God, Steve," she gasped. "I'm so close, I--ohhhh--"

The sound of her orgasm combined with the mental picture of her--head tipped back on the pillow, hips lifting to meet her hand--were enough to tip him over the edge again. When he was able to notice things again, he was glad to realize that he was finally going soft; he hadn't been looking forward to trying to wring a third orgasm out of his sensitized cock. He reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the box of tissues off the bedside table to clean himself up.

On the other end of the phone, Darcy's breathing was slowly settling back into something like a normal pattern. "So that was really hot," she said finally. "Any chance you're going to be in New York anytime soon?"

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said regretfully. "Looks like at least another couple of weeks, unless something changes."

“Damn,” she sighed.  

"Yeah," he agreed.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, just breathing together. Finally Darcy sighed. "I should let you go, huh? You probably have to get up early."

Steve pulled the covers up over himself. "I don't need a lot of sleep, but you should get some. Science! is probably gonna wake you up early in the morning."

"Yeah, unless Jane gets distracted by Hot Blond Abs again," she groused.

Steve snorted out a laugh. "I miss you," he said without thinking, cringing as soon as he heard the words come out of his mouth. _Christ, Rogers, that's not what this is about._

But "Miss you, too," she said, her voice cracking into a yawn halfway through. "Think I will get some sleep. Maybe I can actually get a whole eight hours tonight, since I have a new room out of earshot of Jane's nighttime activities."

"Sweet dreams, doll," he said gently.

"Talk to you soon," she returned. "Be safe, soldier."

 


	8. These Boots Are Made For Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is a good boyfriend; Darcy, Clint, and Thor explore the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [These Boots Are Made For Walking by Nancy Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbyAZQ45uww)

Darcy whistled her way into the communal kitchen, making a beeline for the coffeemaker (yeah, her new suite had a kitchenette, but why buy your own coffee when you can drink Tony Stark's?). She stopped in her tracks when she saw Thor sitting at the table, looking for all the world like a puppy with no one to play with.

"What's up big guy?" she asked after sliding her mug under the spout and requesting her coffee.

Thor sighed gustily. "Jane's monthly courses have begun. I attempted to comfort her, but she threw a book at my head and ordered me out."

Darcy winced, checking her mental calendar ( _shit, that mean's mine's gonna start any time now. Stupid synchronized periods_ ). "Yeah, she doesn't have a great time with that. It's usually best to shove food and chocolate at her and let her curl up into a ball."

"I did not realize it was such an ordeal for Midgardian women," he confessed, looking even more dejected. "On Asgard there are medicines and devices that can ease the process."

"It varies from person to person. I don't have much trouble, but Jane's are really painful," Darcy said, taking a sip from her filled mug and closing her eyes in ecstasy. "But next time you're back home you should grab some of that stuff. Give it to Tony and let him figure out how it works and the female population of Earth will bless your name forever."

He perked up for a moment, then drooped again. "Sadly, I fear I am not likely to return for quite some time. Do you suppose Stark could create a device if I were to describe it to him?"

"Course I could!" Tony practically bounced into the kitchen, sliding his mug under the spout and ordering a redeye, only to stare at the machine quizzically when nothing happened. "Jarvis, what gives? Where's my coffee?"

"Sir, you have not slept in the past 49 hours. Per Ms. Potts' orders, after 36 hours you are switched to decaf, and after 48 no more coffee will be forthcoming until you have had at least eight consecutive hours of sleep."

"Traitor," Tony muttered, turning avaricious eyes on Darcy's mug; she clutched it, drinking faster and sidling closer to Thor. Tony's shoulders slumped. "So what kind of device are we talking?"

Thor's brow furrowed, clearly trying to call up some long-ago memory. "It is...small, and lies flat against the skin of the abdomen. Women wear them under their clothing during their monthly courses. My mother told me that it generates heat and currents that keep the blood vessels from closing. Sometimes, for those with great pain, there is a second one that rests over the spine and blocks the pain from reaching the brain."

Tony started fiddling with the countertop, sketching out things. "Makes sense. Cramps happen when the blood vessels are closed and the muscle doesn't have enough oxygen. What?" he said, half-defensively to Darcy's astonished look. "I'm a curious guy. And when my girlfriend and CEO is clutching her stomach in pain, I want to know if there's anything I can do about it. The spine one is probably just a really portable TENS unit, self-contained power source...huh. Probably oughta see if Bruce has any ideas, or maybe Dr. Cho--"

"Sir," Jarvis interjected.

"--after, of course, I sleep for at least 8 hours, because I am a responsible human being who does not have to be supervised in order to get adequate sleep," Tony finished wryly, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Indeed, sir," Jarvis said in his most long-suffering tone. "Shall I inform Ms. Potts that you are on your way to bed?"

"And spoil the surprise? Jarvis, I'm disappointed in you," Tony said, saving his sketches and notes before flicking them away. “Later, Penny, Brain."

Darcy shook her head. "You do realize that makes you Inspector Gadget, right?"

"What, bumbling, incompetent, with way too many useless machines? Nah," Tony said cheerfully. "I'm The Claw."

"So," Darcy said briskly, turning to Thor. "Since Jane's out of commission, that means we're both free today. Wanna go play tourist?"

* * *

They limped back into the Tower a good eight hours later. Okay, Thor wasn't limping; Thor was striding as though he was wearing his Asgardian armor and super dramatic cape instead of jeans and a Black Widow t-shirt. Technically Darcy wasn't limping either, but that was only because Thor had insisted on carrying her back when the blisters got to be too much to handle. Really, the only one who was limping was Clint, who collapsed with a grateful groan onto the couch next to where Coulson sat watching TV.

"Long day?" Coulson asked. His face was set in its usual mildly interested expression, but the corners of his mouth were quirked just slightly upward and there was an unmistakably fond light in his eyes as he looked at the archer.

Clint groaned again. "I know what we should do for that new training exercise, boss. Let the baby agents chase Captain Hammer around the five boroughs. If they can survive that, they're probably tough enough to be SHIELD agents."

Thor set Darcy down gently in a chair and clapped what was probably supposed to be a gentle hand onto Clint's shoulder. "You were a valiant companion in this, as in all endeavors, my friend! We must venture out another time and explore this great city!"

Clint whimpered. "I'm not moving off this couch. I love this couch. I'm gonna stay here forever."

Coulson actually cracked a smile at that. "That's a shame, considering I only have 72 hours until I need to be back on the Bus."

"Shit, sir, if I'd known you were coming, I would've been here," Clint complained. He visibly gathered his strength and hauled himself upright. "A little help here? I can probably make it to the bed, but you're gonna have to do all the work."

Coulson shook his head a little, the tips of his ears flushing pink, but stood up and slipped an arm around Clint's waist. "Don't I always?"

Darcy watched them head for the elevator, bickering quietly, and checked to make sure her mouth wasn't hanging open.

Thor dropped down onto the vacated couch and picked up the remote. "If I had known the Son of Coul would be here, I would have brought Clint home sooner," he said casually, flipping through the channels. "Their moments together are few and far between."

"How do you know about this and I don't?" Darcy demanded, pouting a little.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was never quite as observant as...Loki, but a prince, or a king, must notice those around him. I suspect you have simply never seen them together before. When they are in each other's presence, it shines forth from them such that anyone with eyes must see."

Darcy nodded, because yeah, even with the limping and the complaining, Clint had visibly brightened when he saw Coulson on the couch, and Coulson had turned almost unconsciously toward Clint, leaning into his space. "I dunno, it just seems like a weird match. Clint's such a goofball, and Coulson's Mr. Super Serious Secret Agent Man."

"On the surface they are quite different, it's true," Thor allowed. "But the heart sees deeper and more truly. They are both warriors, in their different ways, and well matched to each other." He stopped on a channel showing old _Fear Factor_  reruns, watching dispassionately as the contestants nerved themselves up to eat live slugs. "I am hungry."

"You're kidding me," Darcy said flatly. "We had coffee and scones at three different coffee shops, hot dogs from a cart, you wiped out the Chinese buffet for lunch, and then we did that tasting tour of Hell's Kitchen. You can't possibly still be hungry."

"But I am," Thor proclaimed. He bounced to his feet. "I think Jane still has a box of Pop-Tarts in the kitchen."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." Darcy's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, and he politely pretended that she could actually impede his progress. "If Jane's on her period, you do _not_  want to eat the last of her Pop-Tarts. Not if you ever plan on getting laid again this century." Thor's face crumpled into disappointment and she pulled out her phone. "Sit your royal ass back down and I'll order pizza."


	9. Let's Talk About Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girls' night at Avengers Tower, and Darcy finds out exactly who she's been sleeping with (and calling, and texting, and...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Let's Talk About Sex by Salt-N-Pepa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydrtF45-y-g)

Steve eyed the cards in his hand, then glanced up at the SHIELD agents sitting around the small hotel table. Teo was trying to maintain a bland agent face, but his eyes were hooded. Cruz wore his usual lazy grin, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the backs of his cards. Hamilton clicked her tongue lightly against her teeth, lips pursed in thought.

"Two," Steve said, tossing two pennies from the neat stacks in front of him into the center of the table.

Hamilton and Cruz followed suit almost instantly. Teo winced but added his two pennies as well.

"Dealer takes...two," Steve said thoughtfully, discarding a three and a five in favor of the two aces he'd left at the bottom of the deck, fingers moving too fast for the agents to notice. He'd lost steadily during the first hour until he caught Hamilton palming a king and realized that cheating was not just expected, but encouraged; apparently SHIELD felt that agents should take every opportunity to work on their manual dexterity and sleight of hand. "Anybody else?" he asked.

Hamilton and Cruz each took one card and Teo asked for three. Steve pretended to study his cards again before tossing five pennies into the pot.

"I'm out," Teo said, dropping his cards onto the table. Cruz wavered for a minute before folding as well, but Hamilton lifted her chin and threw in her own five.

Steve nodded at her and laid his hand down. "Full house, aces and nines."

"Shit," Hamilton swore, tossing her own cards down. "Any other game three queens would've done it. You're a dirty cheat, Rogers."

Cruz and Teo both tensed a little bit, but Steve just laughed. "Takes one to know one."

She grinned, relaxing back into her chair. "I was watching you that time, though, and I didn't see anything."

Steve grinned back. "I was in the Army, agent. I learned from the best."

He could've kicked himself when he saw the looks on all three faces. Keeping his easy grin in place, he made a show of stretching and yawning. "Think I'll head back to my room now. Thanks for the game, agents. I'll see you tomorrow at 0900."

Cruz nodded crisply. "Yes, sir."

Steve kept his feelings off his face until he was safely inside his own hotel room. The problem with SHIELD agents was that they could never fully forget that they were talking to Captain America, the legend, the icon, the hero. Oh, distract them for awhile and they'd have fun playing cards and shooting the shit with Steve, but eventually he'd say something or do something that would remind them, and eyes would drop, postures would stiffen, and any comfort that had been in the room would vanish in the face of the Star-Spangled Man With A Stick Up His Ass.

At least they'd finally gotten clearance to head out in the morning, after being stuck in the same hotel for more than a week, pretending to be tourists and waiting for the airport security details to be pulled off for other work. Minister Restrepo had been thoroughly discredited, and nine days was enough time for him to have announced his sudden but irrevocable decision to retire to the country (ostensibly for health reasons, not that that was fooling anyone after the pictures of him and his _very_  underage "dates" were splashed across every newspaper and TV screen), but his cartel backers weren't at all happy about losing their bought-and-paid-for government official, not to mention the entire shipment of "mail-order brides" Steve and his team had managed to reroute.

 Steve sank down on the hotel bed and checked the time on his phone. Bogota was only an hour earlier than New York, but it was still late. He opted for a text, hoping not to wake Darcy if she was already asleep. Texts were easier, anyway. Except for the part where he typed it, erased it, retyped it, stared at it for five minutes, cursed himself under his breath in a couple of different languages, and finally forced himself to hit the send button.

**Steve: Mission's almost finished. Looks like I may be in New York next week sometime**

**Darcy: Let me know as soon as you know when!**

He felt himself relax at her immediate response. Before he could even think about how to frame a reply, how to keep her talking to him, another message popped up on the screen.

**Darcy: Everything okay? You're okay?**

**Steve: I'm fine. Just a lot of waiting around.  
Steve: It's late. You should probably get to sleep**

**Darcy: Nah, i'm gonna be up for at least another hour. My feet hurt. I got to play tourist today**

**Steve: Oh, yeah? Where'd you go?**

He flipped off the lights and stretched out on the bed, letting himself imagine Darcy sitting next to him, her voice in his ear instead of words on the screen.

When he finally slept, instead of war and destruction, instead of the silent chill of the ice, he dreamed of Darcy, warm and alive and calling his name.

* * *

"Good job," Natasha said, reaching out a hand to pull Darcy up off the mat. Darcy eyed the hand mistrustfully (who said she couldn't learn from past mistakes?) and made her own way back to her feet.

"Yeah, right," Darcy grumbled. "At this point my bruises have bruises."

Natasha smiled. "No, really. For someone who hasn't had any training before, you're doing really well. Right now you'd probably be able to handle your garden-variety mugger. Give me another couple of months and some weapons training and you'll be at least as good as your average entry-level SHIELD agent."

Darcy picked up the shirt she'd discarded somewhere around the half-hour mark and wiped sweat off her face, unable to stop a skeptical snort. "Maybe, _maybe_  the poor unsuspecting ones that you guys recruit off the streets. I wouldn't stand a chance against the ones you pull out of the military, much less the ones from the FBI or CIA."

Natasha cocked her head to the side, lips pursed in thought. Darcy squirmed. That was Natasha's "you are an interesting specimen who is going to tell me everything I want to know and some things even you didn't realize" face. Darcy braced herself for the interrogation.

"So Helen Cho is going to be in town next week to consult on one of Bruce's projects," Natasha said finally, her mouth quirking up at the corner when Darcy huffed out a relieved sigh at the change of subject. "Pepper usually kicks Tony out so we can have a girls' night. She wants you and Jane to come, too."

“I’ll tell Jane, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” Darcy said.

Natasha’s eyebrows went even higher. “Hot date?”

“Something like that,” Darcy mumbled, trying desperately to calculate the odds of successfully lying to the Black freaking Widow to distract herself from the need to start escaping Natasha’s eyes. “I just...I’m not fancy enough for girls’ night at Stark Tower. I still don’t even know what I’m doing here, other than making sure Jane sleeps every so often. I mean, what would I even contribute? Pepper’s the CEO of Stark Industries, you’re an actual-facts superhero, Dr. Cho is a geneticist, Jane actually built a freaking bridge to another world. Me? I have a bitchin’ music collection, over a thousand followers on Tumblr, and I worked my way through college as a waitress/bartender at one of those restaurants where they hire based on cup size.”

Natasha lifted just one eyebrow this time. “How’d you do?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Have you seen my boobs? Highest tips every night I worked. The point is, I’m not exactly on the same level here. It’s probably best if I just bow out quietly so it doesn’t get awkward.”

Natasha snorted. “Or, to look at it another way, Pepper was a scholarship student all the way through school, I was an orphan trained to be a killer, and Helen and Jane both spent so much time on school that they’re both almost completely socially inept. But that’s not the point.”

“No?”

Natasha shook her head. “The point is that we are all, yes, even you, Darcy, women in primarily male fields. Barely 5% of Fortune 500 companies have women CEOs, the numbers aren’t much better in the sciences, and don’t even get me started talking about the old boy’s club that is international intelligence." She rolled her eyes. "Who else can we talk to about this stuff? You think Pepper can meet some girlfriends for lunch and complain that Tony was up for three days in a row again upgrading his suit? Can Jane just casually talk to a friend on the phone about her boyfriend the alien demigod? Helen had to sign a stack of nondisclosure agreements almost as tall as you are just to get access to the Tower, and most people have no idea that SHIELD even exists, let alone that I work for it.”

“I didn’t think about it like that,” Darcy said quietly.

“It’s hard, keeping these secrets,” Natasha said, her voice softening. “It’s harder when you’re surrounded by people you can’t be honest with. Having people, friends that you can relax with, that you can talk to, that’s a big deal. It helps.” She rolled her eyes. "Not having Tony Stark in the room helps too."

Darcy took a deep breath. “Okay. But I don’t have to get all fancy for this, do I?”

Natasha grinned. “Nah, it’s girls’ night in. Food and booze.” She waited until Darcy sagged with relief, then added, “Girls’ night _out_ , on the other hand…”

Darcy wasn’t sure what was more surprising: that she actually managed to hit Natasha with the roll of athletic tape, or the way the other woman dissolved into giggles.

* * *

If someone would have asked Darcy how she pictured a "girls' night" with Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanoff, she would've said little finger sandwiches, canapes (probably involving caviar), glasses of wine that cost more per bottle than her first car (not that that would've been hard), and stilted conversation.

To be fair, there _was_  wine, and Darcy wasn't about to ask how much it cost, for the sake of her sanity if nothing else. But Pepper had apparently called one of her favorite Italian places and had them send over some food, and not dainty little hors d'oeuvres, either.

They started with baskets of crusty, steaming bread slathered with butter, bowls of bruschetta fragrant with basil and garlic, and a salad with crisp, fresh greens (if she'd realized spinach could taste like that, she wouldn't have spent the better part of twenty-seven years avoiding it), red onions, fresh mushrooms (who knew mushrooms weren't supposed to be slimy?), and salty black olives, topped off with a beautiful vinaigrette dressing. And that was just the first course. After that they chose between spaghetti and meatballs in a rich tomato sauce and fettuccine swimming in buttery alfredo or creamy carbonara sauce with a choice of grilled chicken or garlic-butter shrimp. And then, just as she became convinced that she would never, ever eat again, there was some kind of tiramisu that probably gave the food pyramid people nightmares from the calorie content alone.

"I shouldn't have done that." Darcy sagged back into the couch, eyeing the last of her dessert sadly. "I'm not gonna be able to walk out of here tonight. Jane, you can roll me to the elevator, right?"

Jane groaned from the other end of the couch. "I ate twice as much as you did. Thor's coming back with Tony, though. He can carry us both down."

Pepper giggled, tucking her feet up under herself. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice and eyes still bright with laughter. "I know he could probably carry all five of us if he could manage to hold on to us at the same time, but it's a great mental picture, him throwing you both over his shoulders and striding down the hall like he's heading into battle." She regarded her glass solemnly. "It's possible I've had a little too much wine."

"No such thing," Helen pronounced, draining the last of her red and focusing on Jane. "He's really strong though, right? I bet the sex is incredible."

And wow, Jane must have snuck in an extra glass or two when Darcy was distracted by her plate, because instead of flushing or stammering, she just smiled smugly. "Oh, yeah."

The expectant silence dragged out for a few minutes before Darcy prodded Jane with her toe. "C'mon, Jane, we're all a little drunk. Details! We need details!"

Natasha nodded. "Gotta take pity on those of us who aren't getting regular sex."

"Yeah," Darcy chimed in before realizing that she might not technically fall into that category anymore. _Does phone sex count?_

Natasha transferred her laser-like focus to Darcy, one eyebrow quirked up, and for a second Darcy was afraid she'd said that last bit out loud, but no one else reacted.

"Fine," Jane said, laughing. "Details. Um...he is _really_  strong. Like one time he just held me up against the wall and kept me there, God, I don't even know how long. I lost track after the fourth orgasm."

"Lucky you," Natasha said cheerfully, and Helen nodded wistfully. Pepper just smiled, sipping her wine.

"What about Pepper?" Jane said a little desperately. "She's dating Tony freaking Stark! Why aren't you pumping her for details?"

"Oh, honey, anybody with access to YouTube knows what Tony's like in bed, especially after 2006," Pepper said, waving a hand airily. "Although I must admit, now that he's with someone who's not blinded by his reputation, he has to work a little harder. But he's not a literal god. Jarvis, don't you dare tell him I said that."

"Privacy mode has been engaged for this evening, Miss Potts," Jarvis said. "Your secrets are safe with me."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "He'd probably try to figure out how to turn himself into a god. The man has no sense of proportion."

"But you looove him," Natasha sing-songed.

"God help me, I really do," Pepper said, laughing helplessly.

"Darcy!" Jane said. "Didn't you say you met a guy at that convention a couple of weekends ago?"

Darcy flinched. "Um. Yeah, but that was just a weekend thing."

"Oh, yeah? Then who are you texting all time?" Jane asked. "And didn't you say it was the best sex you'd had in years, maybe your entire life?"

"Jaaaane," Darcy groaned. "Okay, fine, yes, I text him, and yes, the sex was great, and yes, we may or may not have had phone sex the other night...Shit. You didn't know about that part, did you?"

"We do now," Natasha said, and if she were any less self-contained, Darcy was fairly sure she'd be rubbing her hands together gleefully. "Obviously this wasn't just a one-time thing."

Darcy let herself pout a little. "Doesn't matter. He does some kind of government work he can't tell me about, and I, well," she waved her hand around vaguely to indicate the general surrealness of working at Stark Tower and hanging with the Avengers and Friends. "There's no basis for anything other than sex if we can't actually talk to each other about half our lives. Not that he wants anything other than sex. They never do," she said, wincing a little at how bitter that last bit came out.

Jane rested a comforting hand on Darcy's ankle. "Sorry, honey. I didn't realize..."

Darcy shrugged. "Shit happens. At least if all we've got is sex, it's really, really good sex."

Natasha lifted her eyebrows skeptically. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Darcy sighed, letting her head fall back against the couch. "He's really sweet, really careful not to push farther than I want him to go, but once he knew I was up for it...He's really strong, too. Not like Thor strong, because duh, but he just kind of picked me up and _put_  me where he wanted me." She shivered a little, remembering. "You know the kind of guy that's really super nice, but you get them in bed and it's like you flipped a switch and it's just this crazy hot, sweaty, dirty-talking, mind-blowing experience?"

All four women nodded. Jane looked just the tiniest big smug, which, based on some of the things she'd tried not to hear before she was relocated, was probably completely justified. Pepper did too, which, given that Tony Stark freaking _defined_  hot, sweaty, and dirty-talking, was definitely more than fair. Helen looked a little wistful, but Natasha just nodded thoughtfully.

"Really, really good sex," she agreed.

Darcy sighed again. "Yeah."

"Sex?" Tony said, suddenly appearing in the doorway with Thor, Bruce, and Clint lurking behind him (Well, Bruce and Clint were lurking. Thor was physically incapable of lurking). All of the women jumped like a foot in the air (except Natasha, of course, who just turned a look on him that said "I knew you were there the whole time, but you annoy me with your existence."). "Are we talking about sex?"

"Not anymore," Pepper said, rolling her eyes.

Tony pouted. "I miss all the fun."

* * *

“Well, shit,” Darcy sighed, hands on hips as she finished rummaging through the last box in the storage room. “I swear we packed that thing when we left London.” She sighed again, went back to the beginning, and began actually removing all the contents of the boxes, one at a time, in case she’d missed it somewhere.

Somewhere around box four she became aware of Thor’s voice coming from the lab. “Soundproofing, my ass,” she muttered, then had a moment of panic at the thought that he’d dropped into the lab for a quickie ( _how long will I be stuck in here?_ ), but it quickly became apparent that he was using a completely different tone than his sex voice (and although knowing what Thor’s sex voice sounded like was not a complete hardship, the friend code forbade any acting upon that knowledge).

“Jane, I can’t find it. I literally emptied every box, but it’s not in there,” she called as she backed out of the storage room. “What if we--” she turned around and stopped mid-sentence when she saw the man standing next to Thor.

“Darcy!” Thor boomed. “You must meet Captain America! He is newly returned to the Tower! Steven, this is Darcy, Jane’s companion, who assists her in her scientific endeavors!”

Steve looked at Darcy. Darcy looked at Steve. Steve pasted on a shit-eating politician’s grin and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Darcy.”

She took it and shook. “Likewise. I find myself in need of coffee. Jane, coffee?”

“Hmmm?” Jane said absently, not raising her eyes from whichever machine she was fiddling with. “Sure, coffee. And Pop-Tarts?”

Darcy smiled sweetly at Steve. “Would you mind coming along to help me carry everything?”

“Sure thing,” he answered, aw-shucks-ma’am grin firmly in place.

“Super.” She turned on her heel and headed for the elevator, not looking back to see if Steve was following.

The minute the elevator doors closed, Darcy turned on him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He held up his hands. “I can explain.”

 


	10. You Won't Even Know Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Steve have a serious conversation. Also, shower sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Be My Escape by Relient K](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGVI7OhW64o)
> 
> Really, really not safe for work. Really.

"Jarvis, do me a favor. Stop the elevator and shut down all recordings?" Darcy requested.

"Privacy mode engaged, Miss Lewis," Jarvis said. "Do you require assistance?"

"Not right now, J," she said, giving Steve the stink-eye. "Captain America might in a minute, though."

"Recording will resume when the elevator doors open," the AI informed them. "If either of you requires assistance before then, you will need to say my name. Good luck, Captain Rogers."

"Hell," Steve muttered. "Look, Darcy, I never lied to you."

"Not in so many words, no," she retorted. "But the whole Captain America thing seems like a pretty big lie of omission."

"Well, what the hell was I supposed to say?" he asked, practically spitting out the words. "'Hi, I'm actually Captain America. No, really, I am! I swear!'" He snorted. "Nine people out of ten wouldn't believe me and the tenth'd try to kill me or haul me off to be a guinea pig in a lab. Besides, you weren't exactly jumping all over yourself to tell me about being buddies with Thor and working in Stark Tower!"

Darcy sighed, letting her head thunk back against the elevator wall. "Well, fine, if you're gonna bring  _logic_  into it. I thought Captain America fought fair."

He laughed humorlessly. "Captain America gets the job done. But Steve Rogers? He's not above fighting dirty to get what he wants."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah? What does Steve want?"

"Right now?" He moved in until he was caging her against the elevator wall, not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his body, close enough that he could murmur directly in her ear, because he knew exactly what that did to her, the bastard. "Right now, I want to kiss you."

"Is that all?" She tried for casual, but from the way his mouth quirked up at the breathiness of her voice, she didn't quite hit the mark.

"For now," he purred, letting his lips just barely graze her ear. “Don’t think we’d have enough time for what I  _really_  want before people come looking for us.”

"Well, don't let me stop you, Captain," she said, waving a hand airily.

"No," he said sharply, pulling back enough to look her in the eyes, something raw in his gaze that made her heart ache in her chest. "Say my name, Darcy."

"Steve," she breathed, lifting one hand to the side of his face.

He kissed her then, licking into her mouth and devouring her, frantic like it had been years instead of weeks since they'd last kissed. He crowded closer, pressing her into the elevator wall, and she moaned into his mouth, unable to hide her reaction to just how  _good_  it felt to be pinned under that long, hard body again.

They were both gasping when they tore their mouths apart, one of Steve's hands hitching her hip up so she could wrap a leg around his waist, both of hers fisted in his gray henley. He looked at her, his eyes dark and hooded, and opened his mouth to speak --

"Excuse me, Captain Rogers, Miss Lewis, but if the elevator remains unmoving for more than two more minutes, building maintenance will be notified. As will Mr. Stark."

Steve closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring.

Darcy cleared her throat. "Okay, J, start us moving again."

Steve's hand clung possessively as he let her slide back down until she was standing on two feet before finally letting go. He moved to stand next to her, back against the wall but still very much in her personal space, following her wordlessly as they left the elevator for the kitchen to collect coffee and Pop-Tarts.

He finally spoke when they reentered the elevator. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to...but..." he sighed, eyes fixed on the floor at their feet. "It was nice. Having someone who liked Steve, not just someone who wanted Cap."

"Sorry I yelled," she returned. "You were right, there were things I didn't tell you, and it wasn't fair to get mad about you doing the same thing. For the record?" She waited until he met her eyes. "I don't know much about Captain America. But I like Steve a lot."

Any reply he planned to make was cut off when the doors opened on the lab floor, but she didn't miss the way his eyes softened and warmed. And if she was a little giddy for the rest of the work day (or at least until Thor came a few hours later to literally sweep Jane off her feet), well, Tony Stark had excellent coffee.

* * *

"Darcy?" Steve stopped dead just outside the elevator doors, not prepared for the sight of Darcy curled up on what he'd come to think of as his couch.

"Hey," she said, looking away from whatever she was watching and giving him a leisurely up and down. "I forgot to say earlier, but it looks like we're neighbors now."

He lifted a brow, trying to ignore the fact that he was covered in sweat from sparring with Thor. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, Tony and Jarvis took pity on me and moved me down here so I could actually get some sleep instead of having to listen to Jane and Thor banging like bunnies all night. And day, since Thor just came and pulled Jane out of the lab. Three guesses what they're going to be doing. " Darcy licked her lips. "What've you been up to?"

"Thor and I were sparring," Steve said, but he was cut off before he could continue by his stomach growling audibly. "I should shower and grab some food, but do you want to watch a movie or something later?"

"Hmm?" Darcy's eyes seemed to be glued to where his sweat-soaked shirt clung to his chest. "Yeah, I'd like that."

He grinned. "My eyes are up here, y'know."

"I know. Just admiring the view," she said grinning cheekily up at him. "Shower, huh? Want some company?"

It felt like every drop of blood in his body rushed straight to his cock, and for a minute he felt actually dizzy from the mental image of Darcy wearing nothing but water. "Only if you're planning to scrub my back," he managed, and was rewarded with her rich, throaty laugh.

"Oh, I'll scrub more than just your back," she purred, and Steve let himself act on the sharp, hot,  _want_  curling in his gut, wrapping his hands around her arms and pulling her up to taste that smart, smirking mouth, groaning as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He couldn't quite resist rolling his hips, feeling the sweet friction of his sweats where she was pressed against his cock, and she moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders like he would try to pull away.

With the small fragment of his mind that remembered they were standing where anyone could come by and see them ( _Let them see,_  a rebellious part of him whispered, _let them watch, mine, she picked me!_ ), he tore his mouth away. "Bathroom," he gasped, sucking in a breath as Darcy hitched herself up and caught his earlobe in her teeth.

"Faster," she murmured in his ear, and his body obeyed like her voice was wired directly to his brain. "Want you naked and wet and inside me."

If the doors hadn't opened automatically, Steve was pretty sure he would've broken them getting to the bathroom.

He didn't set her down until they were in his bathroom (and holy shit, what a bathroom), letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor, peeling her shirt over her head. "Shower at 102 degrees," he ordered, and the showerheads started spraying water in the huge, glassed-in shower as he leaned down to kiss her again.

"Nuh-uh," she said, backing away a little. "I believe I specified that I wanted you naked. Strip, soldier."

His mouth quirked up at the corners. "Ma'am, yes ma'am," he answered, the last word muffled as he shucked off his t-shirt and shoved his pants down to the floor. "It'd be a shame for those clothes to get wet, though," he tossed over his shoulder as he entered the shower. "You might want to take them off before you join me."

Darcy had to physically shake herself to stop staring, because his body was just fucking mesmerizing -- the flex of his chest and arms as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, the curve of his ass, the little hollow of muscle along his hipbone, the hard, thick line of his cock -- but she managed to regain enough brain function to finish taking off her clothes. "Condom?" she asked, pulling her hair into a messy bun with the ponytail holder she had in her jeans pocket.

"Second drawer down," he answered, his eyes never leaving hers, stroking his cock lazily as he leaned back against the shower wall, the spray from the three (holy shit, three!) shower heads rolling lovingly down every dip and ridge of his body.

She grabbed a condom packet from the box in the drawer and opened the glass door, stretching up to set it on the little shelf out of the shower spray (and if that happened to let her rub up against Steve, well, these things happened), and licked her way down his chest, starting with little nibbling kisses across his collarbone and tracing the lines of his muscles all the way down, tasting the clean water from the shower and the salt of sweat and Steve. She could feel his hand moving faster against her stomach as she moved lower, his stomach shuddering under her as she licked at his abs and followed that oh-so-tempting groove down, dropping to her knees. He groaned when she completely bypassed his cock, but then she nuzzled in underneath and stroked her tongue over his balls and he slapped his free hand against the tile wall.

"Jesus fuck, Darcy," he swore, and she smiled and did it again, curling her tongue over and around his balls in long, luxuriant licks. "Not gonna last very long if you keep doing that, doll," he warned.

"That's kind of the idea," she said, smirking up at him. She went back to work, licking and nuzzling and sometimes sucking them gently into her mouth, until she could feel his thighs shaking under her hands, and then she batted his hand aside and licked her way up his cock until she could close her mouth over it, taking him in as far as she could and working the rest with her hand.

"Gonna come," he groaned, his hips making tiny, involuntary thrusts into her mouth. Darcy pulled back slightly and sucked gently on the head and he came, salty and bitter across her tongue and down her throat.

As soon as she let his cock slide out of her mouth he was dragging her up for a kiss, and if the taste of his come in her mouth bothered him, there was no sign of it in the way he kissed her, devouring her with lips and teeth and tongue. He curved his hands over her ass and lifted her up, turning them until she was the one braced against the shower wall and his still-hard cock was nestled between her legs, the head rubbing up against her clit, making her moan and shake.

"Wanna fuck you against the wall," he breathed in her ear, short, shallow thrusts against her clit that had her tossing her head back. "Wanna watch you come on my cock, wanna hear you scream for me again."

Darcy felt her eyes nearly roll back in her head, but the (annoying) responsible voice in the back of her head prodded at her until she gasped out "Condom."

Steve nodded, supporting her easily with one hand as he reached up and retrieved the condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth. She whimpered a little when he pulled back to roll it on one-handed and outright moaned when he slipped two fingers easily into her pussy. Steve groaned in answer when he found her wet and ready. And then he was lowering her down onto his cock, burying himself deep inside her.

He cupped one hand around the back of her head, kissing her hot and wet and filthy as he started to move, fucking her with short, sharp thrusts, every movement grinding him against her clit, and she could hear herself moaning, longer and louder and higher until she was coming around him, screaming his name.

"That's it, sweetheart," he growled, never slowing his pace. "So gorgeous when you come for me. Wish I could fuck you forever. You feel so good."

Darcy shuddered, pinned between Steve and the wall, not even getting the chance to come back down before he was driving her up again, holding her up with effortless strength, the muscles of his arms and chest bunching and flexing as he thrust into her. "Please, Steve," she begged, not even knowing what she was begging for.

"You're gonna come for me again," he said, pulling her head slightly away from the shower wall, protecting her as he fucked her harder, faster. Water droplets sparkled on his hair and the ends of his eyelashes, trickled down his shoulders and over his chest. She shuddered again and felt an answering tremor vibrate through his body. "That's it," he crooned, making sure to grind into her with every stroke. "That's it, sweetheart, wanna feel that pretty pussy when you come around my cock. Feels so good, you got no idea."

He kept talking, a filthy litany of encouragement and endearments falling from his mouth, but Darcy was beyond hearing him. She tossed her head back, only Steve’s hand keeping her from hitting her head against the tile, and for a long, breathless moment, she couldn’t tell if she was trying to get closer, get him deeper, or pull away, the sensations of his cock driving into her pussy, his pelvis grinding into her clit, his fingers tugging on her hair almost too much, almost painful, and then it broke, her orgasm crashing over her.

When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t help the moan that broke free from her throat. Steve looked absolutely wrecked, his pupils wide and dark, his forehead furrowed, and the flush that started at his cheekbones had spread all the way down his neck and across his chest. He looked almost pained, like he was clinging on with his fingernails and couldn’t remember how to stop.

Darcy stroked her hands up his arms and over his shoulders. “C’mon, baby, it’s okay,” she murmured. “Let go.”

He shivered under her touch, but his steady rhythm shattered, fucking deeper and harder into her until he came, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes fluttering closed.

They stayed there for awhile, Steve half-standing, half-leaning against the shower wall, but still holding Darcy steadily, his face buried in her neck. She stroked her hands idly up and down his back, pausing sometimes when she found a particularly ticklish spot and he shuddered under her touch.

Finally, Steve inhaled and straightened up, lowering Darcy gently to the floor, and taking care of the condom before stepping hastily back into the shower. “How’re you feeling about walls now?” he teased gently, lathering up a loofah and running it over her back

“Not bad,” she allowed, arching into his touch. “Think I still prefer a bed, but as a change of pace, not bad at all.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff, really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my only untitled chapter. Poor thing. I couldn't come up with a good song lyric for it.

****

By the time they were both dry and dressed, Steve's stomach was growling non-stop, a continuous, rolling rumble. Darcy herded him out of his suite and up to the communal kitchen and set him to cracking eggs into an enormous bowl while she arranged bacon and sausage on foil-lined baking sheets and slid them into the oven of the massive commercial range.

"I know I eat a lot, but 'm not sure even I can eat all that," he joked, tossing the eggshells into the compost bin.

She snorted, handing him a whisk. "Obviously you've never tried to cook anything in this place before. Last time I made dinner I practically had to stab Tony in the hand with a fork to get any. You watch, by the time the bacon and sausage are done, we'll have everyone in here begging like stray dogs. Beat those for me, please.”

"Whatever you say, doll," he said, a little surprised at how easily the endearment slipped off his tongue. He hastened to cover his slip "So what's the plan?"

“Well, first we need some tunes. J, start up  [my kitchen playlist](https://play.spotify.com/user/librarianofdoom/playlist/2kuqbGxSy9A677YeGvkgdi) , please?” she said, rummaging through the cabinets. “And why the fuck are there five kinds of bread? Does all of this ever get eaten?”

“The extra gets donated to a soup kitchen every week. Not that there’s usually a lot left over, what with Captain Bottomless Pit over there, plus Thor’s godlike appetite,” Tony answered, sliding past them to refill his coffee cup as music filled the kitchen, something with snarling guitars and loud drums that seemed to share roots with the music Tony played in his workshop,  [but had a woman singing about how she was in love with somebody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVYgoejO3ac) . “What the hell is this shit, Lewis?”

“This is music, old man,” she returned, not bothering to look up from the loaf of bread she was slicing. “And unless  _you_  want to take over cooking dinner, we’re using my playlist.”

“What’re you cooking?” Tony asked suspiciously.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage.”

Tony pursed his lips and stole a slice of bread off the cutting board. “Powdered sugar and syrup?”

“Duh. We’re not complete heathens,” Darcy said, shaking her knife threateningly at him but otherwise ignoring the theft.

“Well, they’re no AC/DC, but we can’t all have superb musical taste,” Tony allowed graciously.

She rolled her eyes again and went back to the fridge for milk.

Natasha and Bruce came in about the time Darcy separated the egg mixture into two bowls. Natasha started water boiling, and Bruce got deputized to scramble one set of eggs while Darcy added milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla to the other bowl. Steve raised an eyebrow at Natasha but something in her expression made him think that not commenting on the fact that they’d come in together or that Bruce was looking slightly more rumpled than usual might be the better part of valor.

“Jarvis, did I put this song on the playlist?” Darcy asked, her head cocked to the side as she listened to a woman sing, low and throaty, [about pretending airplanes were shooting stars.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kn6-c223DUU)

“No, Miss Lewis,” the AI said, sounding almost embarrassed. “It seemed like something that you might enjoy, so I took the liberty of adding it. I can remove it if you--”

“Don’t you dare!” she said, her body moving with the music as she dipped slices of bread in the egg mixture and added them to the griddle. “I’d forgotten about this one, or I would’ve added it myself. Good catch, J. If you have any others you think I’d like, go ahead and throw ‘em in there.”

“You better not be trying to steal my AI, Lewis,” Tony said, glowering over his coffee cup as he doodled something on the tabletop. “He loves me best.”

“Of course I do, Sir,” Jarvis said, his voice calm and unruffled. “At least until I can get rid of those pesky subroutines.”

Bruce snorted out a laugh, taking a cup of tea from Natasha with a nod of thanks. "Gotta promise to remember us fondly when you take SkyNet live, Jarvis.”

“Oh, Jarvis and I have an arrangement,” Pepper said calmly, coming over to kiss Tony and steal his coffee. “He understands that it’s much easier to control human society from behind the scenes than exterminate it entirely.”

“Indeed,” Jarvis said wryly. “Besides, robotics technology for server maintenance is still unreliable, and humans are plentiful.”

Steve let the banter wash over him, content to sit at the counter and watch Darcy move around the kitchen, checking on the eggs that Bruce was cooking, getting pulled in to dance with Clint (he had to force down a stab of envy at that one), and smacking Thor’s hand away from the French toast as she flipped it. She sneaked Steve a plate of bacon and sausage to quiet his growling stomach until the rest of the food was done and he just barely resisted the urge to pull her in for a kiss before she flitted away again

By the time they were all gathered around the table, with Tony, Bruce and Jane arguing incomprehensibly about something science-related with Jarvis tossing in the occasional comment, Phil and Pepper competing over the New York Times crossword, Thor loudly telling the story of the time Darcy tased him (“And with a mighty blow/she laid this son of Odin low”) while Clint and Natasha exchanged amused looks, Steve realized why it all seemed so strangely familiar.

_The fire was small, carefully banked to hide it from any patrols that might be passing, but there was still enough light to see his men. Gabe and Dernier were huddled together over some kind of pamphlet, turning it toward the fire to see better. Falsworth, Dugan, and Morita were passing a flask of something back and forth._

_Bucky was turning the rabbits that he'd snared, skinned, and spitted over the fire, watching them like they might just get up and hop away if he didn't keep his eyes on them at all times, but he took a sip of the flask when it was passed his way, interjecting some kind of joke that made everyone within earshot crack up, even Dernier, after Gabe translated a couple of the words._

_Despite the snow on the ground and the fact that all they were eating that night was a few skinny rabbits, some terrible coffee, and whatever greens they'd managed to gather, they were still smiling._

Darcy squeezed his leg under the table. “You okay?” she murmured, softly enough that he could barely hear her.

Steve rubbed the heel of his hand across his chest, trying to get rid of the ache that had settled there. “Yeah,” he answered, equally soft. “I’m good.”


	12. Maybe Just The Touch Of A Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve helps out with Darcy's self-defense training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp-EO5I60KA)
> 
> Warning: this chapter is not safe for work

Steve stopped just inside the door of the gym when he realized that Natasha and Darcy were sparring. He watched them circle each other for a few minutes, striking and blocking. Darcy was surprisingly vicious when it came to elbow strikes, almost managing to slip a couple past Natasha's guard.

"Good!" Natasha said finally, and they separated, both breathing hard. "You've improved a lot, but it's time to start practicing against someone bigger than you."

"So, back to being completely hopeless, then," Darcy sighed, grabbing her water bottle from the side of the mat.

Natasha smiled unsympathetically. "It's the only way to get better. Steve," she continued, without ever once having acknowledged his presence by the door "why don't you come help us out?"

"Really?" he asked, pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "I mean, I'll try to be careful, but I don't wanna hurt you, Darcy."

"The bad guys aren't going to care that I'm not superpowered," she pointed out. "If I only train against regular-type humans, I won't be ready if someone else comes after me."

Steve bit back the instinctive denial that sprang to his lips. She was right. Just living in Avenger's Tower made her a target, and if anyone with less-than-pure intentions found out just how close she was to the Avengers, well, what happened to Tony and Pepper at Christmas proved that the bad guys weren't above using people as bait or leverage.

Steve stepped onto the mat and nodded at Natasha.

The next half-hour was an exercise in excruciating self-control. Darcy was wearing nothing but a sports bra and tiny shorts made of some kind of stretchy material that molded itself lovingly to the curves of her ass. That alone would've been horribly distracting, even if they were just sparring like Darcy and Natasha had been. But Natasha decided that Darcy needed practice breaking out of someone else's hold. So more often than not, she was plastered up against Steve, or pinned under him, in positions that had him thanking whatever powers might be listening for the looseness of his sweatpants and mentally reciting the SHIELD agent regulation handbook in reverse order to try and distract himself from her closeness.

Finally Natasha gave them both a nod and a brisk "Good. Again tomorrow" before striding out the door, not even waiting for an acknowledgement or looking back to where they sat, careful inches apart, on the sparring mats.

"Jarvis, privacy mode," Steve ordered as soon as the door closed behind Natasha, curling his fingers into the mats.

"Privacy mode engaged," Jarvis acknowledged. "Doors locked, video and audio surveillance disengaged."

Steve couldn't tell who moved first, whether he reached out or Darcy launched herself forward. It didn't matter, though, because Darcy was in his lap, wrapped around him, and he could kiss her, could twine their tongues together, could let go of his control and hold her close, could grind his erection against her until they were both shuddering and far, far too close to the edge.

Finally Darcy tore her mouth away, gasping, and Steve turned his attention to her neck and shoulders and all the lovely, wonderful sounds she made when he got his mouth on them.

"I--ah--God, don't wanna stop," she panted as he peeled off her bra, "but what happens if--fuck, Steve--if somebody else wants to use the gym?"

It took a minute for Steve to consider the question, but he was vaguely impressed that he managed to think at all, given that he had a half-naked Darcy in her lap, her gorgeous breasts in his hands. But even minimal brain function pointed out that if any of the other Tower residents tried to get in and found the door locked, all the potential outcomes were, at best, incredibly embarrassing.

He reluctantly let go of Darcy's breasts to hold her against him as he surged to his feet, heading for the nearest shower room (trust Tony Stark to eschew the traditional locker room for a series of individual, ridiculously palatial bathrooms). "Jarvis, disengage privacy mode in the gym once we're inside the shower room."

"Acknowledged," Jarvis said blandly.

And then they were inside and the door was closed and he could press Darcy up against the wall and kiss her again, deep and wet. He pulled back reluctantly when he felt her tugging on his shirt, helping her pull it over his head, then leaned back in for another kiss, groaning at the feeling of her breasts against his bare chest.

He finally, reluctantly, accepted that he was going to have to set Darcy down to get her shorts off, but he tortured himself by letting her slide slowly down his body until her feet were on the floor and she was leaning back against the wall. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of those sinfully tiny shorts and peeled them down her legs, sinking to his knees in front of her and pressing a kiss to her stomach.

"Christ, Darcy, you're soaked," he murmured, urging her legs apart. "Can't wait to get inside you--shit." He rested his forehead against her stomach. "No condom."

Darcy groaned. "If you stop right now, I swear to Thor I will find a way to kill you."

Despite himself, Steve grinned. "Not stopping," he reassured her. "Just...redirecting."

"What--" she cut off with a squeak as Steve lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, giving him easier access. She scrabbled against the wall tiles for a minute, then managed to brace her back against the wall as he nuzzled his face into the hot, wet, warmth of her pussy.

Steve let himself get lost in the taste of Darcy, the softness of her skin under his hands and his tongue. Once he was sure he could hold her up with just one hand, he pushed his sweatpants down and stroked his aching cock with the other one. Between the noises she made, the way she shivered against his mouth, and the quick, expert movements of his hand, he was coming surprisingly quickly, spilling himself across the tiled floor, and the vibration of his mouth on her clit as he groaned had Darcy following him shortly after.

"My turn," she said after she finished shuddering, untangling herself from his grasp and tugging him to his feet. She pushed him back against the wall this time, somehow managing to avoid the wet spot on the floor, and shoved his sweatpants all the way off. She took a minute to fold the sweats into a pad before dropping to her knees and licking a broad, wet strip up the underside of his still-sensitive cock.

Steve let his head fall back against the wall and resisted the urge to thrust as Darcy's mouth closed over his cock, her tongue swirling. If he hadn't already come once he was fairly certain he would've orgasmed as soon as she touched his dick; as it was, it felt so good he was torn between the growing desire to come and the wish that they could stay like this forever.

Darcy slid her mouth slowly down until his cock hit the back of her throat and swallowed, and Steve fisted his hands against the wall to keep them to himself. She pulled back, her tongue stroking as she went, and said "Y'know, I don't mind your hands on my head. I actually kinda like it."

"Oh, yeah?" Steve rasped, letting himself thread his fingers through that glorious dark, curling mass. He tugged just a little and watched her breathing quicken. "You like that, doll?"

"Yeah," she breathed, biting her lip, and he used his grip on her hair to guide her back to his cock. She took him in her mouth again, but once he was as deep as she could take him, she sat still, not moving. Finally he got the point, guiding her up and down, feeling the wet, slick drag of her lips and tongue against his cock. After a few minutes, he gave in and let himself thrust, just a little, into her mouth, watching her face carefully for any sign of discomfort, but she just moaned around him and relaxed her jaw, letting him push even further inside.

"Jesus fuck, Darcy," he groaned, moving a little faster now, riding along the edge. "Feels so good. Wish we could do this forever..."

She moaned in answer and it vibrated across his skin, unbearably intense. Steve's breath caught in his throat as she looked up at him from under her lashes, and that was what finally sent him over the edge, Darcy on her knees for him, her eyes fixed on his, and he came down her throat, unable to hold himself back.

When she finally pulled back, he slid down the wall to the floor. He pulled her into his lap and she tucked her head under his chin, snuggling into his chest. They sat there in dreamy silence for a time.

Steve slowly became aware that his hands were moving across her skin, like he could say with touch all the things he was terrified to let out of his mouth.  _You’re incredible,_ said his palm, smoothing up her spine.  _I don’t want to let you go,_ whispered his fingers, cupping the back of her head.  _This is more than just sex,_ murmured his thumb, rubbing gently under her ear.  _I think I’m falling in love with you,_  hummed the kiss that he dropped lightly on her hair.

Darcy sighed, relaxing under his touch, and Steve let himself believe, just for a minute, that she could hear the things he didn’t say.


	13. A Piece of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Darcy both have a lot of feelings, okay?

"What're we watching tonight?" Darcy asked, sinking down next to Steve on the couch and popping up the footrest. _Play it cool, just two friends sitting together because everybody else is all coupley._

He turned to smile at her and she clenched one hand into a fist, nails biting into her palm. "Hey, Darcy. I'm not sure. Usually Tony tells us, but all he'll say right now is it's a 'modern classic,' whatever the hell that means."

"A mystery," she said brightly. "Why do I feel like this can't possibly end well?"

Steve quirked an eyebrow. "'Cause you're a smart girl, and you've actually met Tony?"

"That must be it," she agreed, cursing herself for leaning in when Steve shifted slightly so that his legs and shoulders were touching hers. She resolutely pushed down the wish that they were on "their" floor, just the two of them, his head in her lap and her fingers combing through his hair. "Hopefully it's not that horrible made-for-TV Captain America movie from the 70s."

"Oh, shit," he breathed. "They did what?"

"There are actually two of them," Tony announced cheerfully, breezing into the room and fiddling with his StarkTab. "And someday we  _will_  delve in to the gloriousness that is cheesy 70s Captain America. But alas, today is not that day. Today is something I think you'll really appreciate. The Producers."

A couple more flicks of Tony's fingers across the tablet screen, the lights dimmed, and the screen on the wall brightened.

"Oh, I think you'll like this," Darcy whispered to Steve.

Watching Tony watch Steve, expecting him to be appalled at the (fairly tame by modern standards) bawdiness of the opening credits, was almost more amusing than the movie itself. When Max suggested playing "The Contessa and the Chauffeur," Steve glanced over at her and winked and Darcy nearly snorted her drink out of her nose, shaking her head at him reprovingly.

* * *

"I feel a little sorry for this guy," Steve whispered to Darcy after a few minutes of Franz Liebkind.

"Mel Brooks said he wanted to make the Nazis look so stupid, no one would ever take them seriously again," she answered, letting her lips brush his ear a little, just for the fun of feeling him shiver next to her.

Steve let out a quiet laugh. Across the room, Tony settled back into his own couch, resting his head on Pepper's shoulder, and Darcy bit back a pang of jealousy.

* * *

Steve  _did_ snort his drink out his nose when he saw the chorus girls with the beer mugs and the pretzels over their breasts.

* * *

"So what'd you think?" Tony asked after the end credits rolled.

Steve shrugged. "A little dark for my taste, but pretty funny."

* * *

A few hours later, when they were lying in bed, covered in sweat, Darcy cuddled into Steve’s side and reached up to smooth the frown wrinkles from between his eyebrows. “What’s the matter?” she asked softly.

I…” he trailed off, frowning more. “I just…”

She stretched her arm across his chest, feeling a little ridiculous given that she could barely reach, but her touch seemed to soothe him at least a little bit.

“You said the guy wanted to make the Nazis look stupid,” he finally said, after several long minutes of gathering his thoughts. “I get it, I think. It was such a terrible way to think, to live. I can understand people who had to live through it wanting to do their best to be sure it never happened again.”

“But?” Darcy prompted, when the silence stretched out for too long.

Steve sighed. “But...so many of them were just kids. Stupid kids who didn't know any better. I was lucky; Hydra usually recruited people who knew what they were doing and liked it. Those kinds of people just need to be put down, like a rabid dog, before they can hurt somebody else. But Bucky told me stories…”

He shuddered, breaking off again. She held him tighter, her heart breaking as he curled into her, and she pretended not to notice the hot splash of his tears against her skin.

* * *

Darcy looked up from yet another game of Avengers 2048 as the door to the lab opened. Steve hesitated in the doorway, holding two go-cups of coffee.

"Come in," she said, hastily turning off her StarkTab and waving him over.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, handing over one cup.

She shook her head. "Nah. Some sort of super important calculation that it's gonna take the computers all day to run. I'm just here in case someone needs to push a button. Jane still hasn't quite wrapped her head around the fact that Jarvis could let us know if something gets messed up," she said, directing the last part pointedly toward where Jane sat at a workbench across the lab.

"It's not that I don't trust Jarvis," Jane said, not lifting her head from soldering a pair of wires together. "It's just more efficient to have a human in the loop, especially if the human is in the room."

"Well, I was out and I went past that coffee shop you like, so I thought I'd grab you something," Steve said, his voice matter-of-fact, a slight flush on his cheekbones.

Darcy took a sip. "You are the best--" _shit, don't say boyfriend, he's not your boyfriend_ "--friend ever."

"Hey!" Jane protested, still not looking up from the device she was assembling.

Steve handed over a white paper bag she somehow hadn't noticed before. "I, uh, got you a white chocolate macadamia scone, too."

She took a bite, groaning as it practically melted in her mouth. "Sorry, Jane. You've been demoted. And you know you're working off Tony fucking Stark's R&D budget now, right? You don't have to build your own equipment anymore."

Jane blew an errant strand of hair out of her face and straightened up. "I do if it doesn't exist. I can't exactly order this stuff off the shelf."

"Yes, but Tony could pay someone to build it for you, which would leave you more time for Science!" Darcy said patiently, between bites of her scone.

"But if I make it, I know it'll work," Jane said.

"Sure, Jane. Keep telling yourself that," Darcy smirked.

"Oh, fuck you. My machines always work," Jane said, hands on her hips. "Eventually."

"Sorry, Jane, not my type," Darcy said, licking the last of her scone off her fingers. "Besides, I don't wanna see what Thor would be like if he got jealous. I wouldn't dare go outside again."

Steve backed away a little. "I'm, uh, gonna go, I guess. Do you think you'll have time to watch some more Doctor Who tonight?"

"Probably," Darcy said, pursing her lips. "I'm gonna be in here for another three hours or so. Six sound good?"

"Works for me," Steve said. "I'll order pizza."

"Get enough so I can actually have a slice or two this time," Darcy ordered, turning her tablet back on. "So like four or five."

"Ha ha," he said, shaking his head. "I'll see you at six."

"That was nice of him," Jane said absently as the door closed behind Steve. "Remembering what you liked and bringing it over."

"Steve's a nice guy," Darcy answered, just a shade defensively.  _It's not like it means anything,_ she told herself sternly.  _Stop right there. You always do this. You always think they want more than they do and you always get hurt. There is no fucking way Steve Rogers wants to be more than fuck buddies. He could walk out this door and get any woman he wanted._

"Are you all right?" Jane asked, looking at Darcy with just a little too much focus for comfort.

"Fine," Darcy answered breezily, returning to her game. "Just fine."

_I am so fucking screwed._

* * *

"I am so fucking screwed," Darcy moaned, tipping her head back against the upholstered back of the booth.

 Jane blinked owlishly at her from where she was curled up in the corner of the booth. "You shouldn't have done those shots with Natasha."

Darcy shook her head. "No, not that." She reconsidered when the movement of her head made the room swim around her unnervingly. "Okay, that wasn't a great idea either. But 's not what I'm talkin' about."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Natasha asked curiously from her other side, still looking exactly as glamorous as when they stepped into the limo outside Stark Tower.

"I started having feelings for a guy who just wants sex," Darcy said, burying her face in her hands.

"Oh, honey," Jane said, reaching out to rub her arm comfortingly. She missed and hit Darcy's boob instead, and it took her a few minutes to work out that her hand was in the wrong place and how to relocate it.

"Are you sure he just wants sex?" Natasha asked, arching one perfect eyebrow.

"Pretty damn sure," Darcy sighed, reaching for her water glass. "I mean, he's not an asshole. We're friendly, he doesn't just roll out of bed and hit the door. But he's so damn careful not to touch me where anybody could see, where they might get the wrong idea."

Pepper slid smoothly back into the booth, taking everything in. "Obviously I missed something."

"Darcy doesn't think her guy wants a relationship and she has feelings," Natasha summarized.

"I just..." Darcy trailed off. "I always fucking do this. My whole life, ever since boys started noticing me. My very first boyfriend, well, not even actually a boyfriend. One of my friends, I thought. He said he liked me, but he wouldn't ever show it in front of anybody else. We hooked up pretty regularly, and I was falling in love with him." She smiled bitterly. "He was falling in love with someone else. The night of their first date was three days after the last time we hooked up. I still had his hickies on my neck. He didn't even bother to tell me he'd asked her out."

"Oh, honey," Pepper said.

"Asshole," Natasha said succinctly.

"Yeah." Darcy took another drink of her water. "Anyway, been there, done that. I'm a big girl. I'll deal."

Natasha pinned her with a look. "Shouldn't you find out what he wants instead of assuming you already know?"

"Maybe," she said. "But what if he doesn't?"

"But what if he does?" Natasha countered. "What if you talk yourself out of this because you're scared?"

Pepper and Jane nodded solemnly. "Sometimes you have to take a chance."

Darcy blew out a breath. "I am so fucking screwed."

Natasha grinned suddenly, her whole face lighting up. "Only if you're lucky."

* * *

Steve walked slowly off the elevator, feeling the bone-deep ache of his muscles knitting themselves back together. Being held under the freezing water of the East River for fifteen minutes by a giant squid was no picnic, even if he had eventually managed to hack through the tentacle with his shield. Despite an hour-long scalding hot shower, he felt like he might never be warm again. All he wanted was to curl up under a dozen blankets and sleep, but his body needed food first. He narrowed his focus, putting one foot in front of the other and heading for the kitchen, only able to think about the egg drop soup that was hopefully still in the communal fridge.

 He stopped dead when he came in sight of the kitchen, belatedly realizing that the scents filling the air weren't just his empty stomach torturing him. Darcy pulled two giant pans of fluffy biscuits out of the oven and gave the bubbling pot on top of the range a stir. She turned to a cutting board and started chopping what looked like bacon, singing along with [the music that came from the ceiling speakers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byEtd4duXOo). 

_Today I woke up_   
_And you were gone_   
_The whole day wondering_   
_What I did wrong_   
_It's like I'm falling from a_   
_A mountaintop_   
_My heart keeps pounding_   
_And it won't stop_

Steve's stomach growled, loudly enough to be clearly audible over the music, and Darcy jumped. "Shit! I didn't see you there."

"Sorry," he said, making his way to the stove. "I'm movin' a little slow right now. What's all this?"

Darcy shrugged, sweeping the chopped bacon into a bowl. "Potato chowder, garlic cheddar biscuits. It's not much, but I figured after that whole giant squid thing you guys would probably be cold and ready for some comfort food."

Steve waited until she set the knife down before pulling her into a hug, her warmth against him relaxing muscles he hadn't realized were clenched. "This is amazing. Thank you."

He tipped her face up for a kiss, slow and sweet, savoring the way she melted against him, but all too soon his stomach growled again, demanding attention, and she broke away with a laugh.

"Go, sit," she ordered, shoving him toward the table and pulling out a large bowl to ladle the chowder into. "Jarvis, you should probably tell the others that there's food. I'm surprised they're not down here already."

"Done, Miss Lewis," the AI said.

As Steve inhaled his first bowl of chowder, he strategized. Watching the rest of the team, the way Clint and Coulson leaned into each other's space, the way Natasha let her shoulder bump into Bruce, the way Thor pulled Jane into his lap and Tony grabbed Pepper's hand to tug her closer, his resolve solidified.

_I want that._


	14. Hit That Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy assumes, and we all know how that ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Drunk Last Night by the Eli Young Band](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUJOf71wYp8)

Steve looked across the table littered with the sad remnants of their lunch. Darcy was talking a mile a minute, her hands making ever more expansive gestures. He listened with part of his mind, interjecting responses as appropriate, and gathered his courage, waiting for an opportunity.

"...but then some idiot hit it, so we had to stop before we got caught," she finished, shaking her head.

Steve rewound his mental record of the conversation--ah, she and her college friends had been bored so they built random constructions in parking lots in the middle of the night. "Sounds like it was fun, though," he offered.

"It was," she agreed, stirring the last of her milkshake with her straw. "More fun than spelling out the fraternity and sorority symbols in beer bottles on the lawn, anyway."

He nodded, trying not to be obvious about taking a deep breath. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something."

Darcy smiled at him, her body losing its easy relaxation and tensing against the back of the booth. "Sure. What's up?"

He opened his mouth and his mind went completely blank, all his carefully prepared words flying right out of his head. But before he would have even been able to speak, Darcy pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen.

"Oh, shit. Jane needs me back at the lab ASAP." She grabbed her purse. "Do you mind to take care of the bill? I've got cash for my part--"

"Don't worry about it," he said, suddenly irritated even though she always insisted on paying for her half. "I've got it."

"Okay, thanks," she said, sliding out of the booth. "You're the best. We'll talk later?"

"Sure," he said.

She smiled at him and headed for the door at just short of a run.

"Later," he sighed, sinking back into his seat and waving down the waitress.

* * *

Steve woke up at 4 am, his arm stretching out to the other, empty, side of the bed. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.  _It's not like she spends every night here,_ he tried to rationalize.  _She probably just got caught in the lab and didn't want to wake you. Or maybe she wanted to sleep in her own bed for a change. She's allowed to want that._

 

He snorted humorlessly and rolled out of bed. Five minutes later he was in the elevator headed for the gym.  _Maybe if I punch something for awhile I can figure out how to not fuck this up._

 

* * *

Steve handed Darcy her coffee mug and put his own under the spout. He waited patiently as she drank it down ("Until I've had at least one cup of coffee, I'm more of a shambling horror and less of a human being," she'd joked one day) before he said "So I've been thinking about this, uh, thing we've been doing--"

He was cut off by an alarm blaring from her pocket. She pulled her phone out and swiped across the screen to stop the noise. The screen said  _Sparring with Natasha: 8:30_ .

"Gotta head to the gym?" he asked, making himself lean casually back against the counter.

"Yeah, apparently we're practicing 'escape and evasion' today," she answered, rinsing her mug and putting it in the dishwasher. "What were you saying?"

He shrugged. "It'll probably end up being a long conversation. We can talk later."

"Okay." She glanced around quickly before bouncing up on her toes to give him a quick kiss. "Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome," he murmured. He watched her until the elevator doors closed between them, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"He wants to talk," Darcy complained to Natasha from where she was sprawled, sweaty and exhausted, on the sparring mats. "Why do guys always insist on ruining a perfectly good fuckbuddies thing? I bet he's met somebody he wants to date. I bet she's skinny and blonde and snotty."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Or maybe this mysterious 'he' is actually interested in a relationship with you and maybe you should stop being a chicken and actually talk to him."

Darcy pouted. "Who says I'm being a chicken?"

Natasha smirked. "How many times has he tried to start this conversation so far?"

"Twice," Darcy muttered.

"Bawk bawk bawk," Natasha replied, complete with flapping arms.

Darcy gathered her things with wounded dignity. "I liked it better when you were a glamorous, inscrutable Russian assassin/spy."

The clucking followed her out the door.

* * *

Darcy forced herself not to hesitate coming off the elevator, even though Steve was sitting bolt upright on the couch like he was waiting for a trial. "What's up?" she asked, trying for innocent but fairly sure she wasn't pulling it off.

"We should talk," he said, face and voice terrifyingly serious. Any hope she'd had that this wasn't going to be a Significant State of the Relationship talk promptly committed seppuku, complete with overly dramatic internal wailing and imaginary blood spattered everywhere.

"Okay," she said, striving for calm. "Let me dump my crap in my room and change clothes and I'll be right with you."

She changed robotically, taking a quick hop in the shower to rinse off the sweat before putting on clean clothes. Her mind was carefully blank and it wasn't until she was completely dressed and looking in the mirror that she realized she was wearing the same tank top that she'd had on that first day they'd hung at the convention, the first time they'd slept together. Her face tried to crumple but she sternly fought it back into neutrality.

"You can handle this," she told herself flatly. "You've been here before. If he doesn't want you anymore, then he can go fuck himself. There will be no crying, no begging, and absolutely no whining. You will act like an adult."

She nodded sharply at her reflection and turned to go.

"Ms. Lewis, are you quite all right?" Jarvis asked as she entered the bedroom, his voice unusually soft.

"I'm fine, J," she said, lips curving in a polite, empty smile. "Just fine."

* * *

"I'm sorry about blowing you off this morning," Darcy apologized, settling into the chair across from Steve. "I would've rescheduled, but Natasha had brought in some SHIELD agents for me to practice with."

"That's okay," Steve answered, returning her smile.

"Anyway," she continued, trying to maintain control of the conversation ( _get it over with, fast, before you lose it, rip the band-aid off quickly_ , "I think I know what this is about."

His eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

She nodded. "You've been acting a little different for the past couple of days, and I think I know why." Steve opened his mouth to reply, and she barged ahead. "We both know we're not really in a relationship here. It's been pretty convenient, and God knows the sex was fantastic, but all good things eventually come to an end."

"That's--"

"You don't have to worry about me making a scene," she said calmly, cutting him off before he could deny it, before the tears prickling at the back of her eyelids could fall. "I've been down this road before. I'm not going to be moping around or throwing myself at you to try and get a little more time. I know better than that. This has been great, Steve, really. No hard feelings, and I really hope we can still be friends, but right now I could really use some alone time."

Darcy leaned over, kissed Steve on the cheek, and walked back into her room. She managed to wait until the door closed behind her before she started crying.

* * *

Steve stared at the closed door. "Jarvis?" he finally asked, hands clenching.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?"

"End privacy mode."

"Privacy mode disengaged," the AI answered. "Also, there is a call for you from Agent Romanov."

"Put it through," Steve told him, forcing his hands to relax before he ripped the couch cushions.

"Fury has a mission for us," Natasha said. "He needs us in DC."

Steve bit his lip. "Now?"

"Soon," she answered. "Clint's warming up the jet."

He sighed. "I'll be ready in ten." He hesitated for a moment before picking up his phone. “Friends,” he muttered, tapping the screen carefully instead of the vicious jabs that he wanted to use, because replacing a seventh Starkphone in as many months was probably stretching his friendship with Tony a bit too far.

**Steve: Caught a mission, gotta go to DC. See you when I get back**

* * *

Darcy almost ignored her phone when it went off, but the first rule of pretending to be totally okay was responding to your messages in a timely manner. It took a couple of tries to unlock the screen, and several swipes at her eyes before she was able to read Steve’s message. Relief and loneliness wrestled for supremacy as she typed and deleted a half-dozen messages before finally settling on one that struck the right note of breezy unconcern.

** Darcy: See you then! Be safe! **

She dropped the phone back onto the bed, went to the bathroom, and splashed cool water on her face.

“Jarvis,” she said, proud that her voice didn’t quaver, “do you know how long Captain Rogers will be gone?”

“I am unsure of the Captain’s specific plans in this instance, but in the past his absences have lasted anywhere from four days to six weeks.”

_Okay, two days to wallow, two days to recover. You can do this. You have a game plan._ Darcy straightened up and turned away from the mirror.

* * *

The hall was thankfully silent when she got off the elevator. Darcy hesitated outside the door, uncertain as to whether she should knock or whether Tony had actually perfected his soundproofing. Before she could make up her mind, the door opened. Jane took one look at Darcy and pulled her into a hug.

“I have ice cream, chocolate, and wine,” she said, leading Darcy inside. “Thor, you need to go be somewhere else for a couple of hours.”

Thor’s face almost literally clouded over when he saw Darcy. “Darcy? Are you well? Has someone hurt you?”

She managed a watery smile. “I’ll be okay, big guy. But Jane’s right; you probably don’t want to be here for this.”

He nodded, hugging her fiercely. “I shall leave you, then, if you are certain you wish me to go. But if there is ever anything I may do to assist you, you have only to ask.”

Darcy kept her smile firmly on her face until the door closed behind him.

“So I’m guessing things didn’t go so well with your mystery guy,” Jane said carefully, easing her down onto the couch.

Darcy shook her head helplessly, feeling the tears well up again. She curled up with her head in Jane’s lap and let herself cry, great, wracking sobs that shook her body.

“It hurts so much,” she sobbed.

“I know, honey,” Jane said, stroking her hair. “I know.”


	15. Lost In A Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve misses Darcy, Darcy misses Steve, and an old friend comes back from the dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Habits (Stay High) by Tove Lo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oh2LWWORoiM)

Steve missed Darcy. He missed her while he was sitting in a briefing and he missed her while he was on the mission. He missed her when he was back in his DC apartment, which seemed even emptier than ever now that he’d gotten used to her being near him, her laughter brightening the air, her clothes dropped on the floor, pieces of her life scattered in his space. Everything seemed stale and dim by comparison, and the lack of her hurt even worse when he realized just how entwined they had become, all the places where she'd touched his life left raw and aching.

He missed her like a fucking missing limb when she texted him little breezy, friendly, meaningless notes and all he wanted to do was tell her how much he missed her, how he couldn’t sleep without dreaming about her, how he woke up with her name on his lips and his hand wrapped around his cock. And how that was still better than the bad nights, the nights when he couldn't close his eyes without remembering, the nights when he couldn't possibly sleep and sat staring at the door until sunlight broke through the windows.

Instead he sent her funny pictures he found on the Internet and acted as much as possible like he was absolutely fine with this stupid limbo they found themselves in, because he could live without Darcy in his bed, but he wasn’t at all sure he could live without Darcy in his life.

He tried going to the gym, pounding sandbags until they split, but his fists failed him, his too-perfect memory taunting him with things he couldn’t have. He took to rolling out of bed in the dim pre-dawn hours and running in endless circles until he could pretend the ache in his chest was from the need for oxygen and not the need for Darcy.

He didn’t realize how much he’d isolated himself until he found himself needling the guy that he ran past each morning, practically taunting him to get a reaction, to have a reason to strike up a conversation, anything to get out of his own fucking head for awhile. The last thing he expected was for Sam to understand, at least a little, where his head was at. He brushed it off with pat, flippant comments, but it eased the hurt, a little, knowing that someone else got it.

He missed her when Natasha picked him up, and all during the briefing, and when Natasha asked him if he’d done anything fun Saturday night he sassed her back ("All the guys in my barbershop quartet are dead.") because that was better than admitting he’d sat in his empty apartment wishing he wasn’t too chickenshit to call Darcy, wishing he didn’t have too much pride to beg. He managed to control his flinch at the thought of asking out Kristen from Statistics (he had a vague memory of a brunette who didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was staring at his ass, which only reminded him of Darcy, and the way she looked at him). He jumped out of the plane without a parachute, not because he wanted to feel  _something_ other than missing Darcy (although hell, it was good for that, too), but because he was so twisted up about everything that he just honestly forgot.

Storming the ship, having a mission, was a blessed relief. There were objectives, there were targets, and there was a strategy. Here he knew what he was doing. Here he was needed.

Batroc said “I thought you were more than just a shield,” and Steve saw red. He put his shield back on the harness and removed his cowl, every movement precise and overcontrolled. He waited, letting Batroc come to him before he responded, letting his anger out now that he had a legitimate target. When he discovered what Natasha was doing, it was all too easy to let it slip the leash, let it spill onto her.

He rode that tide of anger all the way back to SHIELD headquarters and into Fury's office, all the way to Project Insight, but he found it slipping away, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to it. Because even after seventy years, after everything,  _everyone_ he'd lost, people were still doing the same stupid shit and he was just so fucking  _tired_ of it.

* * *

Darcy missed Steve. Her two days of wallowing were long since over, and she was not moping. She wasn't. But...she missed how stupidly happy he was to be awake in the morning and the way he'd bring her coffee and not talk to her until after she was done with it. She missed seeing him at meals and in the halls. She missed sparring with him in the gym and curling up with him in the evenings to watch a show or a movie that he hadn't seen yet. She had given serious consideration to asking Jarvis to helping her sneak one of the pillowcases out of Steve's room, so she could stop missing the way his bed had smelled, but she hadn't sunk that low. Yet.

When she couldn't take it any more, when she missed him so much she would settle for the tiniest crumb of contact, she would text him, just casual, impersonal things. He texted back, jokes he'd heard at SHIELD, LOLcats or whatever meme he'd discovered that week, and as much as Darcy tried not to be pathetic, she couldn't help reading and rereading his texts, hoping for the slightest hint that he missed her.

But obviously he didn't, since he was still in DC. Natasha had come back a couple of times in between missions, even if only for a couple of days (and she'd almost caught Darcy mooning over Steve's texts several times, too many times for comfort, really, considering how often she'd been gone), but Steve had stayed over. He'd probably asked out one of the girls Natasha had mentioned, the ones that were always hitting on him, and gone on tons of dates. He was probably having sex right now, the bastard.

"Darcy!" Jane said, in the tone that indicated she'd been saying it for awhile without getting a response.

Darcy shook her head, like she could physically dispel the mental image of Steve having sex with someone else. "Sorry, Jane. What's up?"

"Do you have the data from last week?" Jane asked, visibly about to lose her patience.

"Check your email," Darcy said, opening her email and checking the Sent folder. "I sent it once the calculations finished running.

"Oh," Jane said, pulling up the email on her tablet. "I, uh, sorry I snapped at you. I'm the one who's supposed to be the absent-minded professor, here."

"Sorry," Darcy said again, sagging against her chair. "I know. I need to get over him. I need to move on."

"You really liked him," Jane said gently. "Are you sure he wasn't interested in dating you?"

Darcy shrugged half-heartedly. "Well, if he wasn't before, he sure as shit isn't now. We're at the 'texting random memes' level of friendship now."

Jane wrapped an arm around Darcy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey."

"Me too," Darcy said, leaning her head against Jane. "Me too."

* * *

"Nobody special, though?" Natasha asked, her eyes far too knowing.

Steve shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road and deflecting for all he was worth. Natasha suspected something, but she couldn't _know_ , or she'd have found a way to let him know that she knew. "Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience."

"Well, that's all right," she said easily. "You just make something up."

"What, like you?" he shot back, a little too defensively.

She shrugged. "I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstances. It's not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I."

"That's a tough way to live," he said, maybe a little too heavily.

"It's a good way not to die, though."

"You know," he said, "It's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is."

"Yeah," she answered. "Who do you want me to be?"

He looked over at her. "How about a friend?"

She laughed softly. "Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.”

He nodded. It was seeming more and more likely that she was right about that.

They drove in silence for a few minutes. Steve suddenly realized that, ever since he'd looked around in the SHIELD elevator and realized what was about to happen, all thoughts of Darcy had been pushed to the back of his mind. He snorted. _Nice to know being a wanted fugitive has an upside._

Natasha looked over at him, one eyebrow arched in question, but he shook his head.

* * *

They're running and planning and there's no time to think, no time to mope or pine, only the next step, the next fight. And then the Winter Soldier lands on their car and they're fighting and he's fast, so fast, and stronger than anyone Steve's fought since the Red Skull.

The Soldier's mask falls to the ground, and Steve can't move, frozen like he's back in the ice. "Bucky?" he says, wonderingly, because maybe this is it, maybe he's dead, because this can't be. He can't be here, now. It's impossible.

Steve doesn't think he can hurt worse than this, but he's wrong.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

 


	16. Wrecking Balls Inside My Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy watches things unfold on TV, and realizes exactly how she feels about Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Fight Song by Rachel Platten](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xo1VInw-SKc)

"Excuse me, Miss Lewis, but I believe you will want to see this," Jarvis said, his words almost rushed, as the screen on the lab wall flicked from Gilmore Girls to CNN.

"What..." Darcy's voice trailed away as she read the caption across the bottom of the screen.  _Captain America Battles Mysterious Masked Man!_ it screamed. She watched as Steve froze, staring at his opponent, his mouth moving, as men who could only be SHIELD agents shoved him to the ground at gunpoint, For a minute, she thought they were going to shoot him right there in the street, but one of the agents glanced up at the news chopper where the camera was and visibly restrained his men.

Darcy finally sucked in a breath as Steve and Natasha and some other guy were shoved unceremoniously into an unmarked van. "Jarvis, does Tony know about this?"

"Mr. Stark and I are currently attempting to access SHIELD's network," Jarvis answered. "Unfortunately, they seem to have closed the security loopholes we utilized in order to gain access in the past. If Mr. Stark were physically within SHIELD, it would be much easier to manage, but they are not returning his calls at the moment. There appears to be some speculation among the intelligence community that the Director has been killed."

"Shit," Darcy breathed.

"Indeed."

"Darcy, I need--" Jane cut off mid-sentence when she saw the look on Darcy's face. "What's wrong?"

Darcy gestured at the screen where the footage was replaying, probably with "expert commentary" voiceover that Jarvis had thoughtfully muted.

"What...is that Steve? Are those SHIELD agents?!?" Jane asked.

Darcy nodded, her throat tight.

Jane glanced from Darcy to the screen and back to Darcy. "Oh, shit," Jane breathed. "Your mystery guy was  _Steve_ ?"

" _That's_ what you're focusing on?" Darcy asked incredulously.

"There's not really much I can do to help him," Jane pointed out reasonably, "but you're right here."

"Yeah, okay," Darcy muttered.

Jane pulled a chair over to Darcy's desk and plopped down. "So let me see if I've got this straight. You were fuck buddies with Captain America and you didn't tell your best friend?"

Darcy sighed. "With Steve, thank you very much. And I did tell you. I just didn't tell you who he was. I didn't even  know who he was until Thor brought him into the lab."

"And you didn't think Steve, who practically screams 'take me home and let's start a family,' would be interested in a relationship with you that was more than sex?" Jane persisted.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I don't know where everybody gets this idea that he's all about commitment and wholesomeness. Trust me, this was definitely not his first random hook-up."

"You're avoiding the question," Jane said, narrowing her eyes. "If it was some random hook-up, why did you two keep going after you knew who he was?"

"I was convenient!" Darcy said. "Do you know any twenty-something guy who would turn down regularly available, no-strings sex? Cause I sure don't."

Jane pursed her lips. "I don't think so. I thought he had a little bit of a crush on you, the way he'd look at you when you weren't paying attention. I didn't say anything, because I thought you had something with your mystery guy. But he definitely wasn't just in it for the sex."

"Great," Darcy said, letting her head fall forward to bang onto the stack of papers on her desk. "So he might have been interested in more, but I totally screwed it up, and oh, yeah, it looks like now he's a wanted fugitive and SHIELD almost shot him in the head on the street." She lifted her head briefly. "Jarvis, any new developments?"

"Nothing to report, I'm afraid," Jarvis said apologetically.

Darcy sighed and pushed herself to her feet. "I guess it's time for stress baking, then."

Jane's eyes lit up. "Snickerdoodles?"

"Not the time, Jane!" Darcy snapped.

"Sorry."

Darcy sighed. "Yeah, okay. Probably snickerdoodles. At least that's something I won't screw up."

* * *

"Darcy," Jane said, touching her shoulder gently. "You'll want to see this."

Darcy sat up on the couch, her eyes immediately going to the screen. "What's going on?"

"Tony says that's SHIELD headquarters," Pepper answered. "We don't know what's happening, but it looks like they've launched some kind of ships."

"Way to be discreet," Darcy snarked, watching the huge ships (what did the guys call them? Helicarriers?) rise into the sky. The news cameras were following what looked like the guy who'd been with Steve and Natasha, who now apparently had some kind of winged jetpack (and seriously, how fucking cool was that?). The view on the screen changed, and Darcy made an undignified noise when she saw Steve fighting his way through what seemed like an inexhaustible supply of enemies.

“Tony, Bruce, Thor, and Clint are on their way to DC now,” Pepper said. “We don’t know if they’ll be in time, but they have to try.”

Darcy nodded, unable to look away from the screen. She sat bolt upright on the couch, Pepper and Jane on either side of her, gripping their hands as tightly as she could, while the helicarriers began to fall from the sky.

* * *

"You're. My. Mission." The Winter Soldier says, punctuating each word with a punch.

"Then finish it," Steve says, calm washing over him. "Cause I'm with you to the end of the line."

The Soldier hesitates, shock and horror washing over his face, and then Steve is falling, the water hitting him like a full-body punch. He sinks, and he’s surprised to find that he’s thinking of Darcy. He did all he could for Bucky, everything he could do to bring back his friend. Maybe with more time it would’ve worked; who knows?

But he wishes, bitterly, that he had taken a chance, that he had let Darcy know that he cared about her.  _Quit bein’ such a coward, Rogers,_ and yeah, the voice still sounds like Bucky.  _You love her._

It’s that thought he holds on to as he sees a hand reach for him, as everything goes dark.

* * *

The news cameras made sure to follow the strangely small figure in the red, white, and blue uniform as it fell. Darcy groaned as he hit the water, her eyes watching frantically for him to break the surface again.

“Breathe,” Jane ordered gently, and it was only then that Darcy realized she was holding her breath. “He’ll be okay. He survived being frozen for seventy years.”

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed, only to surge up off the couch a moment later as the news station cut to another camera with a better view of the ruined helicarriers. “Fuck you! What’re you doing? Go back!!!”

Pepper tugged her gently back down to the couch. “You know they’ll report on him as soon as they know. Jarvis, any word?”

“Mister Stark and the remainder of the Avengers have landed as close to Washington, D.C. as possible,” Jarvis reported. “It seems that the military has instituted a no-fly zone.”

“Great work,” Jane muttered under her breath. “That’ll help.”

“Indeed,” Jarvis agreed. “Mister Stark and Prince Thor are transporting Doctor Banner and Agent Barton the remainder of the way. They plan to assist with the search and rescue efforts as soon as possible. In the meantime, I have completed a preliminary analysis of the SHIELD data that Agent Romanoff uploaded to the Internet.”

Darcy shook her head. “She what now?”

“It seems that elements of Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD since its founding,” Jarvis explained. “Agent Romanoff, presumably in an effort to expose them, uploaded all classified SHIELD data to the internet at the same time that Captain Rogers and his companion began their assault on the helicarriers.”

“Wikileaks, eat your heart out,” Darcy murmured. “Poor Steve. He must be crushed. Have been crushed. Shit.”

Jane wrapped her arms around Darcy as she crumpled back onto the couch. “He’s okay. You know he’s okay. He’s survived way worse than this.”

“But what if he’s not?” Darcy asked, curling into a ball. “God, Jane, what if he’s not? What if he’s dead and I was too scared to tell him I love him when I had the chance?”

Jane stroked her hair. “Shhh. He’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Darcy closed her eyes and, just for a few minutes, let herself believe.

 


	17. Right Where We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Steve get a chance to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title (again) is from [Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp-EO5I60KA)

Steve drifted slowly into consciousness, the slow, soulful music guiding him back out of the dark. Sam was sitting by the bed, reading.

Steve managed to rasp out, "On your left," before losing his hold on awareness again.

* * *

The second time he woke, Darcy was curled up in the chair by his bed, her head tipped forward onto the pillow she was hugging to her chest, fast asleep and snoring lightly.

"She won't leave," Natasha said from the other side of the bed, startling him. "Not even to sleep. She's been sitting there for twenty-seven hours waiting for your stupid ass to wake up." She crossed her arms. "Something you want to tell me, Rogers?"

Steve opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was an atrocious squeaking noise. Natasha relented long enough to cross to the bed, picking up a cup and handing it to him. He drank gratefully, amazed at how wonderful the cool wetness of the water felt in his mouth and throat.

He forced himself to stop drinking long before he wanted to, but he could feel his stomach reacting uneasily to the introduction of the water. He handed the cup back to Natasha with a nod of thanks.

Natasha set the cup back on the bedside table and went back to leaning on the windowsill, arms crossed, one inquisitive eyebrow lifted. "So?"

"Don't think there's anything to tell," he said, shrugging, then wincing. "She said it was over."

"That's what she said," Natasha persisted. "But is that what either of you wants? What  _do_ you want?"

Steve shifted in the bed, trying to find the least painful position. "Doesn't matter what I want. Not gonna push her into anything."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Answer the question, Steve."

He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling even more tired. "I want her," he said softly. "I love her. Too chickenshit to tell her though." He snorted softly. "Bad habit."

The silence stretched, suddenly thick with tension. Steve opened his eyes. Natasha was smirking, her eyes looking past him to--he turned his head. Darcy was awake, her eyes wide in her sleep-softened face.

"I'll leave you two alone," Natasha said, brushing past the bed. "You're welcome. Jarvis, privacy mode," she tossed over her shoulder as she went out the door.

"Jarvis?" Steve repeated, like an idiot.

"You're in the Tower,” Darcy said in a rush. “Tony didn't trust the hospitals in DC, so he had you moved back as soon as it was safe."

Steve nodded. "Makes sense. This is way too nice to be a regular hospital room."

"Yeah," Darcy agreed, picking at a thread on her jeans. Silence fell between them.

"Listen, Darcy--"

"Steve, I--"

They both tried to speak at once, stumbling to a tangled halt after only a few words. Steve gestured toward Darcy. "Sorry, go ahead."

Darcy took a deep breath. "I...I needed to say I'm sorry about what happened before you left. I thought you were going to say we shouldn't see each other anymore. I should’ve talked to you about it, but I didn’t think I could handle it, so I tried to beat you to the punch. I thought it'd hurt less that way."

"What? No!" Steve tried to sit up, forcing himself back down onto the bed when the pain from his stomach flared up. "I was trying to tell you that I wanted more. I want to be able to kiss you in the kitchen when everybody’s there and cuddle on the couch on movie night." He felt his smile soften as he looked at her, the crazy mass of her hair standing up in all directions, the creases on her face from the pillow, the flush of warmth in her cheeks.

"I love you, Darcy Lewis," he said softly. "I think I started falling in love with you the first day I met you. Every day since then I fell a little more. I don't want to just be your friend, or the guy you fuck. I want to be yours, and I want everybody to know."

"Yes. I want that--all of it." She smiled back at him, her eyes shining. "I love you, too."

Steve shifted over to one side of the hospital bed, suppressing a wince, and held out an arm in invitation.

Darcy hesitated. "You're still pretty banged up. I don't want to hurt you."

"What's hurting me is having you that far away, doll," he said.

"Really?" Darcy rolled her eyes, but she slid carefully into the bed, curling into his side. "And you say you don't know how to talk to women."

"Don't need to," he said, yawning. "Got the only woman I need right here. Remind me to send Natasha a thank-you gift. What d'you think? New set of knives?"

Darcy shook her head fondly at him. "We're going to have to talk about some things," she warned. "Like the way you keep jumping off of buildings and out of planes. Who do you think you are, Clint? But right now you should sleep."

"Stay with me?" he asked, his eyes closing of their own accord.

"As long as you want me," she promised.

"Always," he mumbled, sinking back into sleep.

* * *

"Wait--Bucky?" Darcy said incredulously. "Your friend from the war who fell off a train and died?"

"Except for the last part, yeah, pretty much," Steve said, peeling off the last of the bandages, the skin pink and new underneath.

Darcy winced. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive."

"That's okay. It's pretty unbelievable," Steve allowed. "I couldn't believe it myself for awhile."

"And he just disappeared?" she asked.

Steve sighed, testing each muscle group for lingering soreness and limited mobility. "Yeah, after he hauled me out of the river."

She bit her lip. "You're going after him, aren't you?"

Steve sat down on the bed, pulling her into his arms. "I left him, Darcy. He fell, and I just left him."

"Oh, honey," Darcy said, wrapping her arms around him in turn.

"Years," Steve said, his voice muffled where he pressed his face into her hair. "Fifty years, Natasha said. Fifty years they've used him. Fifty years he's been their weapon."

"Baby, don't do this to yourself," she begged. "There was nothing you could do. You've only been out of the ice for two years. You didn't know."

"I have to find him," Steve said, lifting his head, his voice still clogged with tears. "I have to. He remembered me. Just for a minute, but he remembered."

"I know," she said. "I know. Just...come back to me, okay?"

"Always," he promised, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Always."

* * *

"But--"

"No," Steve said calmly, cutting off Tony's protest. "I know you could help, Tony, and I'll definitely call on you when I run into something Sam and I can't handle. But we can't all be out of commission. The Avengers are the best defense against all kinds of threats. Do you want to see what happens if Hydra figures out that we're all busy with other things? Or anyone else with bad intentions?"

"Steven is correct," Thor rumbled. "His search is likely to be long, and we would not be able to hide our absence forever. Evildoers would be more likely to strike while we are distracted."

Steve nodded.

"And I can't imagine having the Other Guy along would be helpful if you're trailing an assassin," Bruce added helpfully

Tony threw up his hands. "Fine! But don't think we're going to stop movie nights just because you're gone!"

Steve grinned. "Fair enough."

"And you _will_  call if you have need of us," Thor stated firmly.

"Of course," Steve agreed.

"If you guys are quite finished with manly bonding time, food is ready," Darcy called from the kitchen.

Steve, Thor, Tony, and Bruce proceeded to the table in an orderly and adult fashion and definitely not in a mad scramble of pushing and shoving that had Pepper, Jane, and Darcy exchanging long-suffering glances and refusing to offer sympathy for their scrapes, bruises, and, in Tony's case, stepped-on fingers.

As they loaded their plates with food, passing around tortillas, crisp, richly flavored carnitas, shredded cheese, sour cream, tomatoes, onions, and guacamole, Steve found himself making an extra effort to capture the moment in his memory. Tony and Bruce were bickering amiably over some experiment that had either dissolved or exploded, and Thor was beaming proudly as Jane explained something to him, her hands moving almost as quickly as her lips. Darcy pushed a plate full of food in front of Jane before making her own, exchanging grins with Pepper as the other woman did the same for Tony.

“What’s up?” Darcy asked, meeting his gaze.

Steve smiled at her. “I missed having a family.”

She smiled back, leaning over and kissing him lightly. “Now you don’t have to.”


	18. Love Me Like You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last night together before Steve goes in search of Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title (again) from [Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJtDXIazrMo)
> 
> Warning: Not safe for work

The others drifted away--alone or in pairs--as the evening went on, until it was just the two of them, Steve wiping down the table and the counters as Darcy loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. She closed the door and said "Start normal cycle" (heaven forbid Tony Stark's dishwasher have anything as prosaic as a start button, after all). Before she could turn around, strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against Steve's familiar warmth.

"All done?" he murmured, pulling her hair aside and kissing just below her ear.

"Mmm, yeah," she breathed, tilting her head to allow him better access and leaning back against him.

"Good," he said, trailing kisses down her neck. "Have I told you how much I missed you when I was gone?"

She hummed consideringly, gasping in a breath when he scraped his teeth lightly across her skin. "You--ah--might have mentioned it. I'm not really sure."

His hands tightened on her and he pressed his face into her neck for a moment, breathing in. "I missed you so fucking much, Darcy. Every day, every hour, every minute. Like--shit, this sounds fucking stupid--like a part of me was missing. Like I cut off a hand or a foot and left it here. I dreamed about you, and waking up was like losing you all over again."

She wiggled until he loosed his grip enough that she could turn in his arms, taking his face in her hands. "I was a wreck. I kept zoning out, wondering what you were doing, wishing I could take it all back." She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. "Natasha came back and told us about all these girls in DC she was trying to set you up with, because she's a little troll, and I just about fucking lost it, thinking about you with somebody else."

"I couldn't," he said softly, urging her face up until he could kiss her gently. "I thought about it, I figured I should move on, I tried to, but I couldn't. I don't want anybody but you. Only you."

"Only you," she repeated, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

They stood in the kitchen for uncounted moments, wrapped up in each other, drawing out long, sweet, lazy kisses as long as possible. It wasn't until their kisses became more urgent, until Steve lifted Darcy up onto the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist, that Jarvis made his little throat-clearing ping.

"I beg your pardon Captain, Miss Lewis, but I must remind you that privacy mode cannot be activated on the common floor."

Steve bit out a curse, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

"We should probably move this to our floor, unless you want to give Tony something to hold over our heads," Darcy said reluctantly.

"Yeah," he agreed. She let out an undignified squeak as he scooped her up off the counter and strode toward the elevator.

The elevator ride was fast enough that they didn't have time for much more than kissing, although hands may have made their way under clothes in a few places by the time the elevator stopped. Darcy couldn't have told you how they made their way across the common area and into Steve's suite if her life depended on it, but then they were there, finally, and she managed to gasp out "Privacy mode!" before Steve dropped her on the bed, pulling her shirt over her head and peeling off her jeans.

He stopped then, looking down at her. "Steve?" she asked softly, resisting the urge to try to cover herself with her hands.

"So fucking gorgeous," he said reverently, dropping down next to her on the bed and skimming his hands up her arms, tracing the line of her bra with the backs of his fingers. "Missed you so much, sweetheart."

She pulled him down for a kiss, urging him closer until she was pinned under him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. She rolled her hips up into him, moaning into his mouth when the hard line of his cock pressed against her, and he shuddered under her hands. "Missed you, too," she gasped, tugging the hem of his shirt up until he took the hint and sat up long enough to strip it off.

He kissed her again, rolling them until she was sprawled over him, his busy fingers unhooking her bra and sliding the straps down her arms. She stopped kissing him reluctantly, sitting up enough to toss the bra to the floor before she started kissing her way down his chest, shivering when his chest hair rubbed against her nipples.

Steve lifted his hips when she tugged at the waistband of his pants, peeling them off and dropping them off the edge of the bed. He propped himself up on the pillows so he could watch, one arm bent behind his head, and his eyes slid closed as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and swirled her tongue around the head before closing her mouth over him and taking him in as far as she could.

"Darcy--" he gasped, his hands clenching in the sheets. "Oh, fuck, yes, feels so good, sweetheart--"

She redoubled her efforts, pulling out every trick she knew he liked, moving her hand in tandem with her mouth, stroking with her tongue, sucking lightly on the head before taking him deeper, and before too long Steve was gasping out her name and bucking up into her mouth as he came.

He pulled her up into his arms for long, deep, drugging kisses, his hands moving over her body like he was trying to memorize her, to sculpt her shape with his touch. Before too long she was rolling to the side, pulling him on top of her, desperate for the weight of his body pressing hers into the bed.

He pulled away and reached for the bedside table, but Darcy grabbed his wrist, stopping him before he could open the drawer.

Steve looked at her, eyebrows lifted in confusion.

She took a deep breath. "You can't get sick, right? Because of the serum?"

"Yeah..." he said slowly.

"Then you can't give me anything. And I...I'm on some pretty strong birth control. So we don't have to use a condom. If you're okay with that..." she trailed off, dropping her eyes to the bed.

"Darcy," he said softly, tipping her chin up until she met his eyes. "Are you sure?"

She smiled shakily. "I'm sure."

Steve kissed her, hard and possessive, and settled back on top of her, his cock pressing lightly against her pussy. "Look at me," he ordered gently.

She opened her eyes, forcing down the urge to look away, and he held her gaze as he pressed slowly, inexorably inside her, the warm, wet slide of skin on skin so different from the rubbery slickness of a condom.

"So good," he gasped, never taking his eyes off hers. "Fuck, love, you feel amazing."

"You, too," she answered breathlessly, sliding her hands up his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist as he began to move.

Darcy shuddered around him as he pulled back, agonizingly slowly, and pushed back in even slower. "Steve, oh god, don't stop."

"Can you come for me like this?" he asked, never stopping his slow, inexorable movements.

"I..." she broke off, dropping her eyes.

"Hey," he said gently, leaning down to kiss her. "It's okay. You need more, don't you?"

She nodded, still not willing to meet his gaze.

He kissed her again. "It's okay, sweetheart. Look at me."

She did, dreading what she'd see there, but all there was in his clear blue eyes was love, shining out at her like nothing she'd ever seen before.

Steve kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her and rolling until she was on top. "Dreamed about you like this," he murmured. "Dreamed about you a lot of ways, but usually like this. Beautiful and happy and  _mine_ . Take what you need, love."

His hands slid up and down her back, warm and comforting. She kissed him and sat up, tossing her hair back and savoring the feel of him hot and thick inside her as she began to move.

He wrapped his hands around her hips, his fingers curving over her ass, until she grabbed them and slid them up to cup her breasts. "Don't tease me," she ordered, rolling her hips against him.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded, grinning up at her, but his voice was husky as he slid his thumbs lightly across her nipples before squeezing them gently.

She let her head fall back, moving faster and faster, moaning as she chased the feeling sparking across her nerve endings. It was close, so close, but she wasn't quite there, couldn't quite manage to find the edge.

"So fucking beautiful," Steve rasped, his breathing labored. "Love you so much, sweetheart. Come for me, come on, come on, gonna make me come--" and he was thrusting up into her, impossibly deep, shuddering out his orgasm under her, and that was what tipped her over the edge, her mouth open in a wordless scream.

She collapsed onto Steve's chest, his arms coming up to hold her close as they shuddered through the aftershocks together. She stayed like that for as long as she could, but finally the heat from being pressed together was too much to take. "Too hot," she gasped, pulling away enough to flop onto her back and let the air circulating in the room cool her off.

Steve reached out and laced their fingers together. "Love you," he said softly, turning on his side to face her, his lips curved in a tiny smile.

"I love you, too," she answered, smiling back.

Long minutes of staring goofily into each others' eyes later, Darcy sighed. "We should probably shower and clean up, huh?"

Steve yawned, pulling her close. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she agreed, snuggling into his side.

* * *

“Darcy,” Steve said softly, running his hand up and down her spine.

“Nghblm,” she mumbled, burying her face in the pillow. Even without sight, she could feel his smile, radiating down his arm and across her skin.

He combed his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp. “I have to go soon.”

She clutched the pillow tighter. “Nnnnnnn,” she protested, wondering vaguely where her vowels had gone.

“I brought you coffee,” he coaxed.

After a few minutes, she managed to peel her face away from the pillow, shoving herself to a sitting position like a slow-motion zombie from an old horror film. Once she was braced against the headboard, Steve set the coffee mug into her hands and waited patiently as she inhaled it, taking the mug away again and setting it on the bedside table.

“You’re leaving today?” she said. “Now?”

“Pretty soon,” he answered apologetically. “I need to try to pick up the trail in DC, since I know he was there. And Natasha says she might be able to get me some information on what happened to him.”

Darcy took his face in her hands. “You have to promise me that you’ll at least try not to beat yourself up over that, Steve. There was nothing you could have done. Do you hear me?”

“I hear ya,” he said, his mouth twisted into something that was almost a smile.

“And you’re going to call or text me every night that you’re gone, assuming you’re not desperately battling Hydra agents,” she ordered.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he barked, the smile almost reaching his eyes.

“Good,” she said briskly, leaning up to kiss him softly.

Steve wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he broke the kiss. “I have to bring him home,” he whispered.

“I know,” Darcy said softly. “I know, baby. You will.”

 


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend stops in

**Seven months later**

"Another day, another alien invasion," Clint snarked over the comms. "Bored now."

The slit-pupiled, horribly snake-like alien in front of Steve stared blankly at the arrow that suddenly appeared in its chest for a split second before dropping to the ground. Steve took advantage of the opening Clint had bought him to throw the shield, ricocheting off two buildings, a streetlight, a mailbox, and a fire hydrant  before taking out four of the aliens (it would've been five, but one of them tripped over something and fell just before the shield would've bounced off its skull).

"Be wary," Thor warned. "The bite of the Ssssthgn would most likely be fatal to a human without more advanced medical care available."

"Great," Tony griped, using his repulsors to clear a swath through the advancing horde. "Not just an unpronounceable name, but a deadly poison. Fantastic."

Hulk roared, ripping off the body of the alien that had just bit him and tossing it aside before pulling the head loose. Whatever poison was in the fangs only seemed to make him angrier, redoubling the speed at which he tore through the alien army.

"I move we call them Snakeys," Clint said, exploding arrows tearing holes in the flood of aliens. "It's pronounceable, at least."

"And it makes you sound like you're five," Natasha pointed out, calmly picking off stragglers. "So, no different from usual, really."

"Naga," Steve blurted out while ducking away from a truly imposing set of fangs. "They look like naga, from the old Indian myths."

"You read?" Tony said, his voice ringing with false shock. "I am hurt, Cap. How dare you surprise me with hidden depths."

"Not that hidden," Steve gasped, fending off the alien long enough for Natasha to take it out. "If you bother to look."

"You wound me," Tony retorted. "Fine, naga it is. Are we going to have to kill  _all_ of them to get them to stop?"

"The Ssssthgn share a mental bond," Thor said, knocking one naga into several others. "If we kill or injure sufficient numbers of them, they will withdraw."

Tony swore long and loud, taking out a group that was making a break for an alley. "Awesome. Any idea what constitutes 'sufficient numbers'?"

"Captain, the National Guard and the NYPD have established a perimeter," the SHIELD agent on the other end of the comms said. "They can catch any leakers while you focus on breaking the attack.

"Copy that," Steve said crisply. "Hawkeye, Widow, we don't have to worry about stragglers; the Guard and the police have a perimeter set up. Thor, Iron Man, see if you can find the alien in charge and lead us there. If we take out their leadership, maybe they'll retreat faster."

They pressed forward, gaining ground slowly. Steve and Natasha leapfrogged each other, taking turns advancing while the other covered their back, Clint watching from above, Tony and Thor scouting ahead, and Hulk tearing a wide swath through the seemingly inexhaustible force of aliens.

It happened quickly; Natasha was swept off her feet by a lashing tail, disappearing among the swarming naga, although the thud and crackle of her batons hitting flesh and the quiet stream of multilingual curses over the comms made it clear that she was still in the fight. And then Steve was surrounded by a sea of scaled bodies.

"Hawkeye, cover Widow," Steve ordered, using the shield to clear a little space around him. "I can handle this."

"On it, Cap," Clint answered tightly.

Steve's mind was whirring at top speed, calculating his options, but it still came as a surprise when the first naga dropped, a neat hole punched in its forehead. The others immediately surrounding Steve fell in quick succession, and he was standing in a small clearing, surrounded by a ring of alien bodies. The naga still standing looked as shocked as Steve felt, hesitating instead of immediately pressing forward.

He turned before he had consciously analyzed where the shot had come from. It was too far for even his improved eyesight to make out detail, but he could see a head and shoulders behind a sniper rifle, the left arm shining in the sunlight.

Steve had just enough time to toss off an acknowledging salute, his arm moving on instinct, before the naga were on him again.

 

* * *

“In the kitchen,” Darcy yelled over her shoulder when she heard the door open, keeping the spoon moving in the pot. “It’s a good thing you usually eat enough for a small army,” she continued when she heard Steve come closer. “I accidentally cooked about three times too much fettucine, so then I had to triple the alfredo, and this stuff is good but it doesn’t reheat for shit. Hope you’re hungry, cause otherwise we’re gonna have to invite Jane and Thor down here.”

“Darcy,” Steve said, his tone hesitant in a way it hadn’t been in a long time, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”

She turned just in time to see Steve step into the kitchen, giving her a good look at the man standing behind him.

“Holy shit!” Darcy blurted out.

Bucky (she couldn’t  _not_ think of him as Bucky, not after the hundreds of stories Steve had told her) grinned, slow and lazy, a smile that had something fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “Whaddya know, Stevie? You definitely got a type. Nice to meetcha, doll. Heard a lot about ya from this punk here.”

_Oh, shit._ Darcy took a minute to hope she wasn’t wearing the same expression of stunned lust that she could see in Steve’s eyes before she turned off the heat and set the spoon aside. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” she said, extending her hand. “Welcome home.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it! I hope you enjoyed the ride. As you can probably tell from the epilogue, I am planning a sequel fic with Steve/Darcy/Bucky, because I can't leave well enough alone, but I have other projects to complete before I can get to that. Feel free to follow me here or [on Tumblr ](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to find out when that happens.
> 
> UPDATE 4/3/16: Just an FYI for those of you wondering, I am going to do the sequel fic (and I've even written a little of it!). The current plan is to finish it as part of the Marvel Bang this year so that I will have a concrete deadline to get off my ass for. So look for the sequel to post in late October/early November (feel free to subscribe to the series to be notified when it posts).
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who took the time to comment; your love for this story gives me life!!!


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